


Runaway

by friendoftheearth



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-13 07:00:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 29,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14744132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendoftheearth/pseuds/friendoftheearth
Summary: AU. Written in 2011Aaron runs from his grief and guilt...





	1. Chapter 1

It was 6am and Paddy was lying awake contentedly watching Rhona feed Leo. Suddenly the spell was shattered by the unexpected sound of the phone ringing. It had made him jump and his sense of calm turn to concern; he wasn't on call so who could be ringing him at this time of the morning. He reached for the phone, anxious now to find out. He didn't recognise the male voice on the other end of the line, but his message had him leap from his bed and give a hurried explanation to Rhona as he dressed. Five minutes later he was in his car and heading to Hotton, to the police station.

The phone call had come from there, from an officer who'd been friendly with Donna, Marlon's ex; he knew of the family, knew a certain member of the Dingle clan had recently been in court and felt compelled to let his family know that he'd spent the night in a police cell. Aaron would be released soon, had been asked if he wanted to make a call, if he wanted to ask someone to come pick him up, but had refused. Being very aware of Aaron's recent history the officer hadn't been happy to just let him go, was concerned about him and so had phoned his home address.

He was so relieved he had, now he could make sure the lad got home safe. He'd thought he was home, tucked up in his bed, he should have checked on him before going to bed himself but Aaron had snapped at him earlier in the evening for fussing, told him to back off and he'd decided to give him some space, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

He'd been told that Aaron had been arrested for being drunk and disorderly! He was struggling to get his head around that. He'd never seen the lad drunk, but he supposed he could understand why he'd got in such a state. He was trying to numb the pain, escape the guilt he was feeling, doing it his way, alone! He wasn't letting any of them in, not letting any of them help, determinedly pushing everyone who cared about him, who loved him away. He was so scared for him, they all were, they didn't know how to reach him, how to stop him self-destruct, but they were going to have to find a way, they weren't prepared to lose him, they loved him too much.

/

The bed... no you couldn't call it a bed it was more like a bench... was unbelievably hard not to mention cold. He'd woken up thinking he was lying on concrete. It wouldn't be the first time he'd slept rough, surrounded by nothing but fresh air and litter. But he'd opened his eyes to find four walls around him, had found himself in a room that was strangely familiar... that was because it wasn't the first night he'd spent in a police cell... and it probably wouldn't be the last!

He could remember being brought here, and he had a tangible reminder of his undignified arrest... his eyes were still stinging from the spray used to subdue him. He'd stopped fighting then and instead started calling the police all the names he thought guaranteed to get right up their noses. They hadn't taken the bait though, they'd just let him rant, had ignored all his insults, and all the time telling him to calm down which had just served to make him more angry.

He could remember banging on the cell door at one point, yelling still more abuse, his throat left dry by his actions, his already bruised and bloody knuckles taking more punishment. They were hurting badly right now, were smarting and stiffening up, he'd punched a wall, vented some anger on it because it just happened to be there, because the man he was angry with wasn't, and never would be, not now. And whose fault was that? Who was the cause of this endless nightmare? Whose actions had broken so many hearts and shattered so many lives? His! Yet he was still walking about a free man... well he would be when 6:30am came. The cell door would open and he would walk free again.

They'd got it wrong; the twelve nameless faces had got it so very wrong. They'd had the power to lock him up for at least ten years but they didn't. What was wrong with them? He'd killed someone, took their life, he'd committed a crime, he should have been punished for what he'd done, made to pay... but no, he'd been patted on the back and sent home.

They obviously hadn't been listening to Jerry's testimony, he'd exposed him as a bully, a thug, a nutter, his a convincing take on his son's lover...and it had all been true. He had been a bully, a thug, he'd lost his head countless times, he'd done some awful things in his time. He'd tried to change, had wanted desperately to change and for a little while he had. First Paddy and then Jackson had helped get his life in order and him on track, but not even their love and determination could stop him from messing up, stop him from doing stupid things. His biggest mistake not understanding or acknowledging his feelings for Jackson, not until it was too late, not until the damage done was irreparable.

Everyone kept on forgiving him, gave him chance after chance, and they'd all been ecstatic at the verdict, everyone except Jerry of course. They'd either hugged or kissed him, smiles and relief lighting up their faces. But the verdict hadn't made him happy, he hadn't felt any relief. He'd been shocked by it at first, he kept thinking he was dreaming or that he'd heard wrong. Now he'd accepted it as reality and he was angered by it, and anger had once been his closest and only friend.

An officer had earlier brought him a cup of tea and he was sipping on it now, he'd also encouraged him to phone home but he hadn't wanted to do that, what Paddy didn't know wouldn't hurt him. No he'd catch the bus home, try and slip in unnoticed, he was actually quite good at doing that.

He couldn't face Paddy's or Rhona's or anyone's concern for that matter, he didn't deserve it. He couldn't face a barrage of questions either, that was guaranteed to set him off, no he just wanted to be left alone.

He could hear footsteps now, they stopped outside his cell, seconds later the door was opening and he was being told he needed to collect and sign for his stuff before leaving. He hadn't had much on him, just his house keys, money and mobile. It was all there and he tucked it all back into his hoody pockets as he headed out into the morning sunshine.

Seeing Paddy was there waiting for him should really have been of some reassurance, of some comfort, but it had only irritated him, so had his softly-softly approach. He'd rather he give him a bollocking. He'd quickly turned the exchange into a one sided argument, angrily rounding on the older man, finally storming off but not before lashing out with his foot and kicking Paddy's drivers side door in... well he'd asked for it!

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Paddy could be such an old woman at times, his fussing and 'little chats' did his head in. He'd said he was worried about him well when wasn't he? He was forever giving him cause to be concerned about him. Well he was going to have to learn to stop fretting over him, realise it was a waste of time...finally realise that he was a waste of time... a complete waste of time!

He'd made for the bus stop, he'd go to work but he wouldn't go home... to the Smithy, he knew he was going to have stop thinking about it as home; he was going to have to move out. Paddy had another 'son' now, one he really did need to worry over, one he needed to spend more time with. He knew Rhona resented the time Paddy spent with him, the time he spent running after him. He couldn't blame her, he was a disruptive presence in her home, he was making them both unhappy, causing arguments between them, he didn't want that.

By the time he'd reached the bus stop he was regretting the damage he'd done to Paddy's car, he couldn't quite believe he'd taken his anger out on it like that...then again he could, that was him to a T! Get angry, lose control, hit out. He was reverting back to type, the old Aaron Livesy. The one no one liked including himself. Well people could hate him all they wanted, he didn't care, he didn't care about anything anymore.

He'd been lost in thought, aware of a car stopping in front of him but not of whose car it was, it was only when the driver got out did he take notice, it was Paddy.

"Get in the fuckin' car, NOW!"

Paddy rarely swore and never at him, he rarely raised his voice to him either but he'd just done both and it had thrown him and he found himself obeying the order. Once back in the car Paddy had put his foot down on the accelerator and sped away, the miles passing quickly and in silence. When they were just short of Emmerdale Paddy had slowed down and pulled into a lay-by, switching off the car engine to then eye him determinedly.

"I want you to have some counselling, and I'm not taking no for an answer. I love you and I'm not letting you destroy yourself."

He'd bit back on his reply, swallowed his protests, the 'I love you' bit had got to him, it always did. Why didn't those three words trip so easily off his own tongue?

"Aaron?"

"Alright." He'd let Paddy believe he'd agreed to counselling, he had no intention of going though, he hated the idea of talking to a stranger more than he hated talking to someone he knew, someone he trusted. What good would it do anyway, he was beyond help.

"Good, I'll arrange it today, get you seen asap..."

He let Paddy prattle on, the older man taking his silence for agreement. He'd finally got around to the damage he'd done to his car, letting him know he expected him to fix it. He'd nodded his head, of course he'd fix it, it would have to be in his own time though, Cain didn't do freebees.

Paddy seemingly satisfied with what had passed between them had then driven them home, as they'd got out the car he'd told him to go get a shower, that he stank like a brewery... and to make sure he ate something before he went to work. He was at it again, fussing over him, Pearl would have likened him to a mother hen, the same couldn't be said about Rhona, not this morning anyway. She was standing in the doorway, giving him a reproachful look. As he'd stepped past her into the hallway she'd opened her mouth and let her feelings on his latest blow out be known. He'd ignored her, carried on up the stairs, having to admit to himself that everything she'd said was true. By the time he'd reached his bedroom door he could hear Paddy defending him, he knew that would result in an argument between the two of them, it always did, he was the only thing they argued over these days. He'd taken the much needed shower, the jets of water temporarily drowning out the sound of their voices. Twenty minutes later they were still arguing, it sounded a lot more heated now though. He dressed quickly, wanting to get away from there, from the ugliness that was again all his doing. As he'd made his way downstairs he realised Rhona knew what he'd done to the car. She was going on about him losing control, that it could just as easily have been Paddy's head that he'd kicked in, that he'd beaten him up before, who was to say he wouldn't do it again or turn on her or Leo?

That had brought him up short. He wouldn't hurt Rhona, he wouldn't hurt Leo he was just a baby...but then he was capable of anything when he lost his head!

Paddy had reacted badly to that idea, shooting his girlfriends concerns down in flames; they were really going at it now, hammer and tongues, saying things he knew they would both later regret. Well it would definitely be the last row they had because of him; he'd make sure of that. He couldn't stomach anymore, it was making him feel sick, just like the recent rows he'd had with Hazel and his mum had done, so he let himself out of the house unheard.

As he'd made his way down the hill to work he told himself there was only one way to end the misery he was causing everyone and that was to put as many miles as he could between him and them.

He was going to have to leave Emmerdale and for good.

He had some money saved, not much, hardly anything in fact but he knew where he could get his hands on some, desperate times called for desperate measures... it wouldn't be the first time he'd stolen what he needed.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

He stared at the wooden cross, at the name inscribed on the metal plaque adorning it, emotions surging up inside as he did so. He missed Jackson so very much, more than he thought was possible. Coming here, speaking his thoughts out loud was a comfort of sorts; it was what they called cold comfort he supposed, because in the end it didn't really help, nothing did. Still he'd miss coming here; he'd miss this remote means of contact, all he would have of Jackson would be memories after today.

"I'm not going to be able to come for a while..." Not even he could lie to a dead man, "I won't be coming again, but that doesn't mean that I've stopped loving you or that I've forgotten you because I haven't, I won't, I never will. I just can't be here anymore. It's too hard... I can't do it without..." He had to stop to wipe away a tear and decided to change the direction of the one sided conversation, "You don't have to worry about your mum, she'll be fine. I promised you I'd look after her and I did, I did my best anyway, she threw a bit of a wobble before the trial but she's alright now... as alright as she could be after losing you. She thinks we did the right thing but I... " No, he wasn't going there either, he'd only get angry, angry with himself and angry at Jackson and he didn't want his last visit to his grave to hold any negative memories. "Anyway your mum's got Bob now, he's been a good friend to her, he's been so supportive, and Paddy will keep an eye on her too... so like I said you don't need to worry about her... or me. I know what I'm doing."

He got to his feet, he didn't want to draw the goodbye out, he didn't want to prolong the agony. He knew the longer he was here the harder it would be to walk away. He fingered Jackson's name, lovingly caressing it but that just wasn't enough for him so he leant down and gently pressed his lips against it, whispering 'I love you' as he withdrew from the goodbye kiss.

The cross wouldn't be here for much longer, it was just a marker until the headstone was set in place, he wouldn't be around to see that... he could imagine it though, he knew what was to be carved into it, that his name was to be there too. He hadn't liked the idea at first, not after what he'd done and he'd told Hazel not to put it there but she wouldn't listen. But now he was happy... well not happy... pleased to be able to leave something of himself behind with his boyfriend, with the man he'd loved... still loved so deeply, he didn't want to desert him completely.

He told himself not to look back and he didn't, he just forced his reluctant feet forward and out through the churchyard gates. That was the hardest part done; now he just had to get through the rest of the day.

/

Everything was so far going to plan, for once going his way. Cain would be leaving work earlier than usual, was going with Debbie and Sarah to the hospital, the little girl was ill, or so they now believed, she needed blood tests and all manner of investigations. While they were gone he would be in charge of the garage, he had the keys, and one of those keys opened the petty cash box. Petty cash! It actually held sizable amounts of cash, and he'd be helping himself to it. That was one way of turning Cain against him, making him wash his hands of him, making him want to forget all about him. Debbie couldn't afford to lose the money but he knew Cain would replace it one way or another so he wasn't going to feel guilty about taking it. He wouldn't feel guilty about helping himself to the Woolpack's takings either, his mum owed him for all the years she hadn't been there... and anyway it would drive home the message that he really was no good, that it was time for her to give up on him. Getting his hands on that money could prove a little more tricky, but he knew he could do it, he hadn't lost any of his nerve or cunning, and like Cain they wouldn't notice it missing until he was long gone.

He still had to get some essentials from home... from Paddy's. The older man had stopped by the garage earlier, wanting to check on him, knowing he had to have heard him and Rhona arguing. He'd been relieved to see him, wanting to one last time; still he'd lied barefaced to him, told him he was fine, that everything was ok, that he'd be working late so not to hold tea for him. That way he wouldn't get wind of the fact he'd left, not until he was miles away. He'd get what stuff he needed later when Paddy was out on his calls and Rhona at the clinic with Leo. It was just a regular check up today, to make sure he was gaining weight... he would have liked to see him grow up but that wasn't going to happen now.

Three o'clock had soon come and he'd watched Debbie carry her daughter to the car, she was so pale, a sickly worrying colour, he knew there was something very wrong with her. He told himself it was something she'd recover from, and told Cain he hoped everything went alright but he could tell by his uncle's face that he was expecting some worrying news. He couldn't dwell on that though, he had to put his family and friends to the back of his mind, he had to try and forget them.

It was eight o'clock now and he was well on his way to wherever it was he was going. He'd been thumbing it and was now keeping a long distance lorry driver company, not that he was any kind of company right now, his mind kept straying to what... to who he was leaving behind... they were probably starting to wonder where he was by now...

In the end his plans hadn't gone quite the way he had in mind. He'd opened the petty cash box but all he'd taken from it was what he was entitled to... his wages. There had been a time when he could easily have stolen from his own family but not now, when the time had come he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He hadn't been able to steal from Cain, he hadn't been able to steal from his mum either, but he had been able to turn his back on them, on Paddy, on Hazel... because he truly believed it was the right thing to do.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Hunger burned in his belly, thirst in his throat. If that wasn't bad enough, he was tired and cold. In the two months since he'd left Emmerdale, his fortunes had been mixed, but this had to be his lowest point, was his lowest point. His money had run out two days ago, and what little he'd eaten since, he had stolen. He wasn't proud of what he'd done, of resorting to such measures again.

He was half wishing that he'd been caught in the act now, that the shop keeper had seen him stuffing his jacket pockets with munch, he might have spent a night in a police cell if he had. Ok, so they weren't the most comfortable of places, but at least they were reasonably warm and dry, he'd have been given a meal and a hot drink too. But then again, a handful of chocolate bars and a few packets of crisps probably weren't worth the paperwork involved; he'd have just been given a caution and sent on his way.

On his way! That made it sound like he was heading someplace in particular. Truth was, he didn't have a clue where he was, let alone where he was going. He was wearily traipsing down some country road he'd happened upon, he just kept on putting one foot in front of another because he had to, he had to keep moving.

Night wasn't all that far off now, and knowing the temperature would fall drastically when darkness did, he was keeping his eyes peeled for something that would provide him with some shelter, a barn, any kind of farm outhouse would do. He didn't want to sleep out in the open again tonight, but it was looking more and more like he would have to.

A string of cars had just passed him by, a few weeks back he'd have stuck out his thumb, hitched a lift. But there was no point doing that any more, not the way he looked. He didn't need a mirror to tell him he more than resembled a tramp... well he hadn't washed or changed his clothes in over a week, he had to be stinking to high heaven. His designer stubble had grown into a straggly beard, he didn't like it, it itched way too much, and as for his hair, that was a lot longer than he liked it too. No one was going to stop and pick him up, no one in their right mind anyway.

He longed for a shower... to soak for hours in a hot bath... and a fresh change of clothes; he wanted to feel clean again, some way near human again. He wanted to sleep in a bed, curl up under a duvet, rest his head on a soft pillow... he wanted to fill his belly... pig out on bangers and mash...Sunday dinner... beans on toast even, anything hot and filling would go down nicely right about now!

Reality stung; there was no chance of any of that happening, not unless... there was one way out of the pitiful mess he found himself in. A phone call or a text was all it would take. Paddy would drop everything and come get him... he longed to see the older man, hear his voice, his mum's, too, for that matter. He missed them both badly but, he knew he couldn't make that call, he couldn't go back, he could never go back.

Why had he let himself think of them? Things were bad enough right now without him getting homesick too. Every now and again, that emotion would sneak up on him and overwhelm him. He would struggle with it, have to battle against it, the call home was just so strong, he had to tell himself over and over that he was stronger.

He had to think of something else, get his mind onto something else, but what though? It was hard to think of anything other than the ache in his heart and just how easy it would be to put that right.

Feeling a telltale drop of moisture on his face, he groaned aloud, it was starting to rain... that would make his misery just about complete!

As he rounded a bend in the road, the much-needed distraction materialised, his gaze immediately falling on the vehicle that was parked just up ahead. The car's bonnet was up, its hazard lights flashing, it looked to have broken down. Did he walk on past or did he offer his help?

As he drew closer, he could see that a man was leaning over the engine, tinkering with it, hopefully he knew what he was doing, because he really didn't want to get involved, not unless he had to. The other man had been so engrossed in what he was doing that he hadn't noticed him approaching, not until he was just a few feet away. Realising he was no longer alone, he straightened up, his attention settling on him.

Aaron wasn't prepared for what he felt on seeing the stranger up close... the fact was he liked what he saw, really liked what he saw... the grey eyes, the warm smile, the handsome face framed by shoulder length wavy blond hair. Inside, he felt something stir, something he hadn't felt in a long time, something he shouldn't be feeling now... attracted to another man!

"I don't suppose you know anything about cars, do you?"

The voice was soft and had a friendly ring to it; he found he liked that about him too. But it was all so wrong, wasn't it? Jackson was barely cold in his grave!

The gray eyes were searching his now, waiting on his answer. He wanted to say no, lie and say that he knew nothing at all about cars and then carry on walking, but his mouth betrayed him, "A little." Dropping his rucksack on the side of the road, he set about finding the problem. Five minutes later he had, ten minutes after that he'd put it right.

His expertise had earned him a thank you and an offer of a lift, but as desperate as he was, he turned it down; he couldn't believe just how strongly he was drawn to the stranger, so strongly it scared him.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

He was frantically pulling his clothes from the tumble dryer and stuffing them into his rucksack, determinedly blinking away tears as emotions warred inside of him. One question was echoing over and over in his head: 'How could he? How could he have slept with a man who was little more than a stranger?'

Last night, it had seemed so right, he'd wanted to, he'd wanted Micah badly and Micah had wanted him. Within hours of meeting, they were falling into his bed! At the time, he'd believed it to be so much more than just sex, that it was more than them fulfilling a need, he'd felt a connection, something good, something meaningful, but now... now, in the cold light of day, he knew that that couldn't be, that it wasn't possible, that he'd messed up yet again.

When he'd woken up, warm, and that warmth coming from the body heat of another man lying next to him, he'd lazily basked in contentment... but only briefly. The doubts, the fears, they had quickly overwhelmed him, his head telling him that it should never have happened.

He should never have accepted that lift! That was the start of it all. Alarm bells had been going off in his head even then, why hadn't he listened to them? He had at first and had politely refused, had said 'thanks, but no thanks', and had started to walk away, pretending the rain wasn't falling, that he wasn't getting soaked to the skin. He hadn't got very far. Micah wouldn't take no for an answer, he had been insistent, not to mention persuasive, so damn persuasive that he'd accepted more than a lift from him.

Wiping a stray tear from his cheek, he looked around the small kitchen, he didn't want to leave something of his behind, he couldn't afford to, he didn't have much as it was. Satisfied he hadn't, he made for the front door.

He had hoped to sneak out of the house unnoticed, like he had out of Micah's bed; he'd had to slowly and carefully extricate himself from his arms, they had been wrapped so very tightly around him. Shivering in the cold of the unheated bedroom, he'd pulled on the clothes he'd so hurriedly discarded the previous night, Micah's clothes, the ones he'd lent him while his were spinning around in the washing machine.

Micah would regret last night just as much as he did, he was certain of that, and so he had to get out of there before he woke up. He desperately wanted to avoid any awkwardness, he wasn't sure he could even look the other man in the eye, not after what they'd shared between the sheets.

He was almost at the door when he heard movement upstairs, the telltale creaking of floorboards breaking the silence. His heart immediately began to thunder in his chest, his mouth growing unbelievably dry, causing a painful lump to form in his throat.

At the flick of a switch, the landing was illuminated and he heard his name being called. He clamped his mouth shut, scared he would be tempted to respond.

In the half-light, his fingers began a panicked search for the metal latch. Like the door, it was old and heavy and groaned in protest as he raised it, giving his whereabouts away as it did so.

From the top of the stairs came Micah's voice, "Aaron? Wait, don't go."

The plea sounded genuine enough, like him leaving was the last thing Micah wanted. That thought stirred his already turbulent emotions even more, and so he told himself he was imagining the depth of feeling there and, anyway, how could he stay?

He wanted out of there and now, and there was one way to ensure he got clean away. Without giving it a second thought, he snatched up the car keys that Micah had left on the hall table the previous evening, and after closing the door behind him, made a dash for the car parked on the roadside.

Tossing his rucksack into the back of the vehicle, he dropped down into the driver's seat, key in the ignition he willed the car to start first time, holding his breath until the engine roared into life. He was just about to drive away when the front door opened; he turned to look at the jeans clad figure standing there. Disbelief was written all over the other man's face, the grey eyes held his; he found he couldn't look away. But whatever spell he was under was broken when Micah started to shake his head, his mouth forming the words, "Aaron, no!"

With his gaze now on the road ahead, he pressed his foot on the accelerator, the wheels of the car screeching loudly in his haste to get away.

His eyes were suddenly drawn to the rear mirror, but not to check on what traffic there might be, but to have one last look at Micah, he wanted to see him one more time. That didn't make sense, did it? But then again, none of what had happened between them did.

He had to stop thinking about last night, he had to put it behind him, mentally file it under 'Mistake' and then forget all about it.

Checking the fuel gauge, he realised there wasn't all that much petrol in the tank; he'd probably get twenty miles out of it, maybe a little more. He'd run it til it was dry... if he wasn't stopped in the meantime! Well, he hadn't borrowed the car, had he? He hadn't asked the owner's permission before taking it, he'd stolen it! 'You idiot!' he silently blasted himself. He hadn't seen it that way at the time, it had just been a means to put some distance between him and Micah... but he wouldn't see it that way, would he? He'd think that the easy lay he'd picked up at the side of the road had taken him for all he could, and then made off with his car. He'd be on the phone to the police by now.

Yesterday, he was half wishing himself in police custody, but the idea held no appeal today; today, he just wanted to be left alone.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Part 6

Did he ditch the car, leave it where it could easily be found? Or should he drive it as he had first planned, until it ran out of fuel? There was one other option... he could take it back, return it to its rightful owner. No! No, he couldn't go back to Micah's, just like he couldn't go home... back to Emmerdale.

It was warm in the car, not to mention dry, and with it he could cover a lot more miles than he ever would on foot... he'd chance it, go as far as he could with it.

He had been driving about fifteen minutes or so, the small town where Micah lived, well and truly behind him now. He was just beginning to relax, had told himself that he'd be ok if he kept to the back roads. But typically, he'd got that wrong, like everything else.

His heart rate had quickened a little on seeing a police car up ahead, it was parked on the side of the road along with another vehicle. The driver had been stopped for some reason... it was Saturday morning, or was it Sunday? He'd more or less lost track of what day it was, now that his life wasn't ruled by work and other such restraints. But he was certain it was one or the other, and knew that on those two days, the police made a point of doing early morning spot checks, hoping to catch those still hung-over from partying the night before, those whose blood alcohol level was still above the legal limit.

Slowing down, he flicked on his indicator, overtaking the stationary vehicles at a sensible speed, hoping not to draw any attention to himself. But one of the two officers, the female, had her eyes on the car, and had clocked his face, had stared long and hard at him in fact. 'Maybe she just liked what she saw', he told himself wryly. Well, he did tend to get a lot of female attention, not the sort of attention he wanted of course. He was certainly looking a lot more presentable today, since last night he'd showered and trimmed both his hair and his beard. On seeing the clean, tidied up version, Micah had nodded appreciatively, telling him he scrubbed up well. It hadn't clicked that Micah was interested in him, for a start he hadn't had him down as gay. You were supposed to know though, weren't you, some inner sense enlightening you to the fact. Maybe he'd chosen not to see it... but he hadn't been blind to it for long, the mutual attraction had quickly become obvious...

What was he doing? Hadn't he promised himself not to think about Micah? Hadn't he told himself to forget all about him? His mind now firmly back on the present, he checked his rear-view mirror, and on realising the policewoman's attention was still on him, he increased his speed.

Paddy was always telling him he didn't use his rear view-mirror enough, well it was a case of overuse this morning, he kept looking in it, expecting at any minute to see the police car he'd passed five minutes ago. It was almost a relief when he did.

It had kept its distance for a few miles and then it had suddenly got right up behind him, signalling then for him to stop.

He couldn't believe his luck, well he could!

He watched as Mr. and Mrs. Plod got out of their vehicle, the WPC talking into her radio as the male officer approached him, to then ask through his now open window...

"Is this your car, Sir?"

"No, it's a friend's." Not quite true, last night didn't make him and Micah friends, and anyway you didn't steal from a friend.

"Does the registered owner know you have it in your possession?"

"Yeah." Well, that bit was true enough.

"Are you sure about that, son?"

The officer's response told him all he needed to know, Micah had reported the car as stolen. He had every right to... so why did he feel hurt by his actions? That was something else that didn't make any sense to him.

He dropped his gaze, and as he did so, the officer pulled his door open, gesturing to the patrol car as he said, "C'mon."

"Where to?" Like he didn't know, he was just playing for time now, wondering if he should make a run for it or not.

"Where'd you think?"

He decided to go quietly, to go with the flow, and just ten minutes later found himself face to face with the local Police Station's duty sergeant. The older man was asking the usual obligatory questions. He'd given him his name without hesitation, but when he asked him his address, he just shrugged, well he didn't have one, not anymore, he was... what was it they called it... of no fixed abode!

"Well?"

The older man's want of a verbal response had him say "Buckingham Palace." The officer hadn't batted an eyelid at his lip, had obviously heard it all before, and calmly went on to ask him if he had a driver's licence.

He had that tucked in one of the many pockets of his rucksack, he knew exactly where it was but he was suddenly determined not to cooperate. "Not on me."

"Passport?"

"I don't have one." Now that was an outright lie, his passport was in with his licence.

"So, you don't have any ID?"

"That's not a crime, is it?" There'd been no response to that bit of attitude, the phone had started to ring and the sergeant had turned his attention to that.

The next thing he knew he was being told to wait in the room opposite, that someone would be with him shortly.

Twenty minutes he'd sat alone in the interview room, growing ever more suspicious of what was going on. He'd been in police custody before, knew the drill and very little of what he'd experienced so far was normal procedure. When the door did finally open, the duty sergeant had stepped just inside the room and told him he could go.

"What?" He hadn't been expecting that. He was again told that he could go, only with an added incentive: "Go before I change my mind!"

He hadn't needed telling again, although he'd have liked to know why he was being released, why he hadn't been charged with anything.

As he stepped through the main door, he got his first inkling as to why. Micah! His heart lurched on seeing him, but he told himself it didn't mean anything.

Micah hadn't spotted him; he was too busy talking to the WPC who'd brought him here for questioning. He knew he should slip away before he did, but found himself rooted to the spot. He could just about hear what the pair were saying, they were talking about someone, at first he'd thought it was about him, but on realising it wasn't, was blindsided by another realisation... he'd spent last night in a copper's bed!

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

He was suddenly angry, angry at Micah, and when the older man finally turned around, when his attention settled on him, he was ready for him, letting rip with, "You had them pick me up, you left me in there to stew, and you made sure they didn't release me til you were here!"

"What?"

The puzzled look on Micah's face served to infuriate him even more; he knew exactly what he was talking about. "Am I supposed to be grateful to you now? Show you some gratitude? Give a repeat performance of last night, maybe?"

"Aaron!"

Micah looked visibly shocked by his outburst, it had taken him aback too, he wasn't sure where it had come from, he just knew that it was a cheap and nasty display on his part, and that he regretted it. He couldn't bring himself to apologise though, anger still burning inside, still mad at Micah for being what he was. He had no time for the police, not one ounce of respect, and he certainly didn't trust them... but he'd trusted Micah last night.

His composure now restored, Micah was edging closer to him, like he was expecting him to bolt; if he was to hear something he didn't like, he just might.

"Look, I don't know what you think happened, but the police know me, they know my car and when they saw a stranger driving it, they... well they were just doing their job. They rang me and I told them that I knew you had the car...

"Yeah, right!" He spat scornfully, he was back on the defensive, "Like you were just going to let me take it..."

"I thought, hoped you'd come back."

The sincerity in Micah's voice had thrown him; he didn't know what to make of it and before he could stop himself, he said, "I thought about it." It was suddenly important that Micah knew that.

Micah was nodding, a smile tugging at his lips, obviously pleased by his admission, but he was beginning to regret that now too, he was wrong to give him even that scrap of encouragement.

"Aaron, we need to talk."

"No." That was the last thing they needed to do. Go their separate ways was what they should do.

"Did last night mean nothing to you?"

"It shouldn't have happened, it was a mistake."

"A mistake? Is that why you took off, because you regret what happened between us? I don't. I'm not in the habit of jumping into bed with someone I've only just met; I don't share body and soul with just anyone. I know last night wasn't a mistake, it was meant to happen, it was the beginning of something..."

"It was just sex, for me it was anyway!" He'd just seen something flash in Micah's eyes, hurt! He didn't want to hurt him, he just wanted him to back off, to leave him alone, to let him go on his way, but he was making it all so difficult.

"What are you scared of?"

"I'm not scared of anything."

"You were running scared this morning."

"No, I was just trying to avoid this conversation. I've been here before, many times." There, he'd made himself sound something he wasn't, hopefully something that held no appeal to Micah.

"You've made a habit of pushing people away, haven't you? They get a little too close and up go the barricades."

He didn't like that Micah was reading him so well, or how easily he saw through his lies, like he knew him, like he understood him. He was going to have to end this now, before Micah brought his walls tumbling down, and he would, given time. He'd been about to open his mouth, to say something else he'd hate himself for, but a ring tone had sounded, it had Micah reaching into his jacket pocket for his phone.

It was a timely distraction, one he should take advantage of, it should be easy enough to turn around and walk away now, but Micah had him pinned to the spot with his steady gaze. It was like he had some sort of a hold over him, one he was making no attempt to break. He didn't understand what was happening; he was blowing hot and cold, his thoughts, his emotions all over the place. He could make head-nor-tail of the phone conversation either, but it was over soon enough, Micah stuffing his phone back into his pocket as he apologised for the interruption,

"Sorry, but I'm more or less on call 24/7

He didn't need a reminder of what he did for a living and snapped out, "Shouldn't you be getting inside then." He'd gestured to the building behind him, to the police station, but Micah was giving him a puzzled look again, then suddenly it seemed a light had gone off in his head, he looked amused,

"You think I'm a policeman?"

"Well, you are, aren't you?"

"No, what gave you that idea?"

"You were just talking about bringing someone in."

"Yeah, a kid who needed to own up to doing something, who needed to do the right thing. I just provided the support he needed."

"So, you're what, a social worker?" He had nothing against them.

"No, although I suppose I work along similar lines at times.

"So, what are you then?" He was more than a little curious now, Micah sounded like some do-gooder, but what exactly.

"Like the police, my job comes with a uniform of sorts! Not that I wear it very often, Sundays mostly."

"What?" Was Micah teasing him or just edging around telling him his occupation for some reason. Whatever, he was losing patience now, a sense of unease starting to creep in. He watched as Micah unzipped his jacket, to then gesture to what he was wearing underneath.

"I suppose you could call this my badge of office."

He was stunned, he didn't know the proper name for it, he had only ever heard it referred to as a dog collar, but whatever it was, Micah, like Ashley... like the Reverend Ashley Thomas, was wearing one around his neck... no, no, he couldn't be!

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to think. He could only look at Micah in disbelief. The thought of him being a policeman had knocked him for six but this, this was even harder to get his head around. Why? He wasn't sure. Was it because the idea of him hooking up with a vicar was so laughable or was it because of the bitterness he felt towards Ashley? He'd never really had much to do with Ashley until... well, their paths had rarely crossed, and when they had, it was fleeting, they had absolutely nothing in common, they were poles apart. They'd say hi, good morning, all the usual things you said in passing with a neighbour. He'd had nothing against him, thought him a good man, what he stood for supposedly proof of that. But then when Jackson... when Ashley had made his feelings loud and clear on what had happened, what his so called principles had him do... not do, refuse to do, any respect, any belief he had in him was destroyed by those actions. How could he turn his back on Jackson? How could he let him down like that? He would never forgive him, never.

He'd been so lost in the memory of that time that he hadn't realised just how close Micah was to him. Only inches separated them now, and the grey eyes were looking intently into his, searching his, wanting to know what was going on in his head.

"Aaron? Is it that much of a shock, that unbelievable? I'm still the same person; I'm the same man you made love to last night, the same man whose arms you fell asleep in. Nothing's changed."

Micah was wrong, so very wrong, it changed everything! For a start, it had made it all the more complicated, it made the two of them together all the more wrong! The odds were against them before, but they didn't have a hope in hell's chance now. He wanted to tell Micah that, but then he'd have to explain why and he couldn't, he couldn't let him know what he was, the terrible thing he'd done.

He opened his mouth, willing something to come out of it, the right words, the words that would make Micah see sense, that would have him turn around and forget about him, but all that left his lips was his name, "Micah..."

"We can't talk here, so come back to mine. I've got a meeting I can't get out of, but I'll only be a couple of hours max, then we'll talk, and if, after we have, you find you still want to leave, then I promise I won't try to stop you."

He wanted to say no, him going to Micah's was dragging it out needlessly, postponing the inevitable. He'd walk the second the conversation was over. Of course he'd walk, there was no other option... so how come he'd just heard himself say "Ok"?

/

The car ride back to Micah's had been made more or less in silence, a strained silence. They were finding making small talk difficult and that was because the major stuff was coming between them. They were both relieved when the car finally pulled up outside the stone- built property. It was only then that Aaron noticed the house itself stood next to a church, that had escaped his attention both last night and earlier that morning. As he followed Micah in through the front door, he suddenly remembered something the older man had said last night. Micah had said of his home, "It's old and draughty, but it comes free with the job, so I can't complain." He hadn't asked him what his job was; he hadn't wanted to show any interest. He could have avoided all this if he had, last night wouldn't have happened if he had... or would it?

They were in the kitchen now, Micah gesturing first to the fridge and then to the cupboards next to it, saying, "Make yourself some breakfast, tea, coffee, whatever you want, I'll be back as soon as I can. Promise me you'll be here."

"I'll be here." Those three words had tripped reluctantly off his tongue; he knew he might have done another runner by then. Well that's what he did, he ran from things that scared him.

/

He was on his third mug of tea, he still hadn't gotten around to making himself something to eat though, his stomach was turning over on itself, threatening to eject anything he put in it. It was almost two hours since Micah had left, and he couldn't quite believe he was still sitting at his table, twice he'd almost legged it, twice he'd got as far as the door... he just couldn't go any further.

The waiting might have been easier if he'd switched on the radio or moved into the living room to watch TV, but he didn't really want such distractions, he wanted to make sense of what had happened since meeting Micah, make some sense of his feelings.

Micah had coaxed and cajoled him back to his, not that he'd needed all that much encouragement in the end, the promise of a hot meal in payment for his work on the car had been the thing that swayed him, he was starving.

He couldn't sit down to the table dirty though, could he? Before he knew it, he was stood under the shower's steaming jets. Then, while his clothes had a much-needed wash, he'd shared Micah's evening meal. Micah had done most of the talking, sticking to safe topics, like football and music. Washing up done, they'd moved to the living room, sat together on the sofa, soaking up the heat of the coal fire.

Then, suddenly, they were kissing. He still wasn't sure how that had come about; one minute they were laughing and, the next, they were putting their lips to an even better use. It had been no all-out snogging sesson, no lust-filled, face-eating fest, but a tender and gentle exchange of emotions, like they'd already done all that full-on stuff and had moved on, moved on to a deeper, a more sensual expression of their feelings. Micah had then silently led him to his bed, the next step, the true sharing of each other, something they'd each wanted more than they'd wanted their next breath.

The sound of the front door opening jolted him out of his reverie, Micah soon breezing into the kitchen, the relief on seeing him obvious.

"How was the meeting?" He was making an effort, determined to try and communicate, and that was a start, wasn't it?

Micah heaved a sigh, "Same as always, I'm in the Bishop's office at least once a month. He doesn't like the way I do things. I'm the proverbial black sheep."

Somehow, that didn't surprise him, his appearance alone told him Micah didn't toe the line. His shoulder-length hair, damp from the rain, was drying into a mass of untamed curls. His faded jeans were ripped, his trainers shabby looking. Micah looked more like a heavy rock musician than a man of God. If it wasn't for that thing around his neck, you'd never know he was a... no, no, that wasn't true, there was something about him, something he couldn't put his finger on right now, but there was definitely something that set Micah apart, and he suddenly realised that it was that something he was drawn to.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Micah had made them both a mug of tea before sitting down at the table opposite him. His opening comment throwing him a little.

"I was half expecting to find you gone."

He shifted uncomfortably under the other man's unwavering gaze, he didn't want to admit to just how close he'd come to leaving.

"It's probably not the best time to ask this, but I'm thinking the sooner it's out of the way, the better. Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"No!" That had unsettled him further. Why did people always think the worst of him? The answer came swiftly, because he always gave them cause. In Micah's case, he'd made off with his car.

"But you're running from something or someone, aren't you?"

Micah was again a little too close for comfort with his observations, and he couldn't stop himself from snapping back scathingly at him: "Is this you playing at being a social worker, helping the community's waifs and strays?"

"No, this is me caring about you, wanting to help you..."

"Well I don't need any help."

"I'd say someone who's sleeping rough, who hasn't eaten in days, who hasn't got a penny to his name 'is' in need of help."

"Yeah, well, you've done your job, you've played the 'Good Samaritan' by feeding me, by giving me a bed for the night... not that that came free exactly!" He couldn't believe he'd just said that, that he'd stooped so low again."

"So you really believe I took advantage of the situation, that I was desperate for it and took advantage of you?"

No, he didn't believe that, not for a minute. He was just feeling cornered and like every other time, had hit out at the one responsible in a malicious way. He wasn't going to tell Micah that though, and just glared back at him. He could make whatever he wanted out of that response.

"No matter how last night might look, how it makes me look, relationships are something I take seriously, and that's why they've been few and far between. I've only slept with one other man, he... well, he was special, he was the one, and I thought we'd go the distance..."

"You were wrong about him then?" Another uncalled for and snidely made comment, but Micah needed to see just how wrong he was about him, that he was wrong to want to get involved with him.

"No. I was right about him... but he died, I lost him."

Micah's revelation had taken a little while to sink in but, when it had, the words had come easily to him, "I'm sorry." He was, truly sorry; he knew the pain of losing someone you loved, someone who was everything to you, best friend and lover all rolled into one.

"It's a few years ago now, two to be exact. Time heals, Aaron."

Micah had said that like he knew he was hurting and why, like he could sense his pain, like he could see into his heart, into his head. He had to drop his gaze, look away from the seemingly all-seeing grey eyes. In the silence that followed, in the time Micah gave him to think his words through, he realised just how honest Micah had been with him, how open. He was deserving of the same, wasn't he? Reluctantly resuming eye contact, he said, "You're right, I am running from something... I'm running from me."

"Because you're gay?"

He could understand Micah thinking that way, and it would make things a whole lot easier if he lied and said yes, but he didn't want to lie to him, and anyway he'd see through his deception like he had everything else. "No, although I ran from that at first too."

"Which goes to prove you can't out run what scares you, what haunts you. It's alright, I know you're not ready to talk about it, but when that changes, and it will, well, you know where I am."

Micah had read him right again, he wasn't ready to talk about it, and he never would be, it was too ugly a thing to air, and certainly not with Micah. What would happen should good and evil collide? The same as when warm and cold air did, he supposed.

"One more question, one that if you answer honestly, might help you decide whether to walk out the front door or not.''

He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the question, was almost certain he wouldn't want to answer it, but gave Micah the go ahead to ask it anyway, "Alright."

"Last night, what happened between us, was it 'just sex' to you?"

/

He was cold, shivering as he stood looking up at the moon, looking but not really seeing, his mind turning the decision he'd made over and over. He had so many doubts, and he kept on questioning his reasons, wondering if it wasn't too late to change his mind... all the time knowing he didn't want to.

He should be trying to sleep, but that meant sleeping alone again, and he craved the warmth he'd felt last night.

Turning away from the window, his gaze fell on the single bed, it was inviting enough, he was sure it was as comfortable as the next, but it was empty. The one in the next room wasn't though; Micah was tucked up in that one.

In the end, after telling himself he had to lie and lie convincingly, he'd found he couldn't and had gone on to answer Micah's question honestly, admitted how he really felt about last night, and just how confused he was about it, that it was all too fast, all too sudden.

Micah had understood, had said he did, anyway. Then they'd talked about him being there, them agreeing he'd stay, but to take things slowly. That meant him sleeping in the spare room, but after spending the day with Micah, he was no longer sure he wanted to.

Just a wall separated them; it was no real obstacle, not if he didn't want it to be.

'It was now or never', he told himself and made for the door.

He was standing outside of Micah's room, his courage on the wane, it didn't seem such a good idea anymore, and anyway Micah could be asleep, probably was by now. He was dithering as only he could, he couldn't even decide if he should knock or not.

His hand was on the door handle now, his courage not having completely deserted him. It was another few minutes before he'd talked himself into turning it though.

The bedside light was on, Micah awake, a book in his hand, it seemed he couldn't sleep either.

He just needed a sign... and there it was, Micah setting down the book, tossing back the covers, making room for him...

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

Runaway

Part 10

As he settled in bed beside Micah, Aaron was again having doubts, what had happened with Jackson suddenly very much on his mind.

"You're not sure about this, are you?"

Micah was doing it again, reading his mind or seeming to. It had to be his body language that was giving him away; he knew he was unbelievably tense. His uncertainty had to be coming off him in waves, so there was no point trying to deny it, "No."

Micah was now looking intently into his eyes, probably wondering what to say, just what to do, maybe even having seconds thoughts about this, too; he wouldn't blame him if he was, he was making things so difficult.

"Well, now you're here, I'm not about to tell you to go."

After first reaching to switch off the bedside light, Micah had then wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He knew that was as far as things would go between them tonight. Micah seemed to have sensed that what he really needed right now was to be held, to not be alone.

Warmed now, both physically and emotionally, he started to relax, and with the resulting sense of calm came a need to talk, to share something with Micah, something he hoped would help explain him... the way he was. He let the words Micah had used earlier that day echo back at him, "I've only ever slept with one man, he was special... only I realised that too late..." He suddenly wanted to tell Micah everything, every ugly, painful detail. He knew he needed to tell him about the terrible thing he'd done, he needed this man's understanding, he needed his acceptance, but that need, as great as it was, was far outweighed by the fear of his reaction, his rejection, and so the words refused to come, he couldn't get them passed his lips.

"Aaron?"

With that prompt, he heard himself say, "I messed up. I always mess up and I'm scared I'll mess this... us, up too."

"I'm not going to let you."

He had to fight the urge to say that it was too late, that he already had, because by not being totally honest, by not telling the entire truth, he had already messed up. He'd thrown a spanner into the works, and at some point, it would make its destructive presence known.

Micah would now believe that he had an ex out there, alright one no longer in the picture, but one who was alive and kicking all the same... his heart lurched painfully in his chest as the poignancy of his phrasing hit home.

Micah had tightened his hold on him, adding emphasis to the words he had used. He'd genuinely meant what he said, and Aaron knew he should have taken comfort from that fact, but he couldn't. He still didn't understand what they had, what it was they seemed to have found with each other, how they could connect so quickly, so easily. But he did know that whatever it was, he wanted it desperately, and he wanted to hold on to it. He knew he could be happy with Micah, that this was his chance to get it right.

They'd fallen quiet, Micah seemingly content with what had just passed between them, for now anyway. But it was eating away at him, his thoughts, his guilt tormenting him. The truth would come out, wouldn't it? According to the old saying, it always did. He didn't want to hurt Micah, he didn't want to disappoint him, he didn't want him to think bad of him. He didn't want Micah to ever look at him like Ashley and like a lot of people had done, with disbelief and then with disgust.

He knew he had a decision to make. Did he perpetuate the lie, and it was a lie, albeit an unintentional one? Did he let Micah keep on thinking what he did now or did he tell him everything, and risk losing everything in the process? He didn't like the answer he kept getting to his question, but knew it was the right one. It was best he told Micah everything before they got in any deeper, before they got too close, too involved, when rejection really would be too much to bear.

Tomorrow he was going to have to man-up and do the right thing... he'd tell Micah tomorrow. He was at least spared the ordeal tonight, because Micah was now asleep, his soft, rhythmic breathing telling him that much.

It took a little while but he, too, began to succumb to sleep... only there was some annoying noise in the background, irritating and insistent, stopping him just short of falling into the black abyss...

Someone was knocking and knocking loudly on the front door!

"Micah!" Getting some indiscernible response back, he nudged the older man none so gently in an effort to rouse him from his slumber.

"What?"

"There's someone at the door." Right on cue had come the knocking again, and on hearing it, Micah had leapt from the bed, hurriedly pulling on his clothes.

His clothes being in the next room, Aaron had made for the door."

"Where you going?"

"To make myself decent." Surely Micah, as vicar, wouldn't want him seen parading around in his boxers?

"It's alright, go back to bed," Micah insisted evenly as he edged passed Aaron on his way out of the room.

But things obviously weren't alright, they couldn't be, not if someone was pounding on his door at gone one in the morning! Micah seemed unfazed by it though, like it was the sort of thing that happened all the time.

Aaron hovered at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping shamelessly, he could hear a woman's voice, she was obviously upset, verging on hysterical. It was hard to make out what she was saying but he could hear Micah trying to calm her down, to reassure her. Just minutes later, Micah was bounding back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Aaron followed him back into his bedroom, where in a hushed voice the older man started to explain what was going on.

"There's a woman's refuge in Medfort, I'm going to take her there."

"Refuge?"

"Yeah, she's had one slap in the mouth too many, has finally seen sense!"

He didn't know what to say, or what to do, but he thought he should be saying or doing something to help, "Do you want me to come with you?" He realised that probably wouldn't be at all helpful, the minute the suggestion had left his lips, but Micah had smiled at him, reached out and caressed his cheek before saying, "No, no need, I'll get her settled and be back as soon as I can, you keep the bed warm."

He had gone back to bed, but was finding it impossible to sleep, having just had a small taste of Micah's life. Yesterday he'd told him he was on call more or less 24/7 and he'd just had proof of that.

He'd mocked him yesterday, tried to belittle him for wanting to help him. Now, he realised it was something he did, that service to the community was his way of life. It was an untimely reminder of just how very different they were, that they were poles apart!

He'd been kidding himself, hadn't he? They both had. It would never work. They were both lonely, both in need of some affection, some intimacy, something they'd both had with someone they had cared deeply about... and then all of that had been stolen from them.

That was the connection! It was that need that was pulling them together. He realised with a jolt that it was never destined to last!

It was half past three before he heard the front door creak open, five minutes later, Micah was climbing into bed beside him, dropping a kiss on his lips on finding him still awake. Suddenly, that kiss wasn't enough for him, he wanted Micah, needed him one last time...

The alarm had woken them and while Micah had showered and readied himself for his Sunday obligations, he'd gone downstairs to make them both a drink.

As he stirred the heaped spoonfuls of sugar into his mug, he told himself he had to stay strong, that he couldn't give Micah any indication of what was coming, that when he came home later that morning, he would be returning to an empty house, finding him long since gone. His resolve was set, but when Micah had walked into the room, a smile on his face, believing everything to be right with his world, he found he couldn't look him in the eye.

"What's wrong, Aaron?"

Micah didn't miss a thing, now he had him cornered, leaving him with no option but to say it like it was.

"This, us, it's not going to work." He could tell by the look on the other man's face that he hadn't seen that coming, he seemed at a loss as to what to say and he wasn't much better, but as he struggled to find the words he needed, Micah began to speak.

"Is this to do with what you told me last night? You still have feelings for the man you talked about, don't you? He's still on your mind, you still love him. That's what you're running from, isn't it?"

"No. No, it's not like that, it's not what you think."

"Then, what..."

"Something happened between us..." Aaron hesitantly detailed the events of that fateful night, he had to take a deep breath to compose himself before continuing, "He almost died, and maybe it would have been better if he had because... he was paralysed from the neck down. I tried, me and his mum, we both tried so hard but he didn't want to live that way. He asked her to help him end his life, he asked me to understand. I didn't, not at first, but he made me see it was what he wanted, the only thing he wanted.

''When the time came, she couldn't, Hazel just couldn't do it. He was begging, pleading, so I did what his mum couldn't do." He could see the shock on Micah's face, knew he was struggling with what he'd just been told. Maybe he needed a bit of time for it to sink in, but he couldn't give him that time, he had to keep talking, he had to get it all said.

"It went to trial, I was up for murder. They should have found me guilty... but they didn't, they let me go. You wanted to know what I was running from, well now you do. I'm running from what I did... and I'm always going to be running from it."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

For Janneke04

The silence seemed to go on forever, and when finally it was broken, it was with words that made no sense, not to Aaron, not after what he'd just said, after what he'd just told Micah.

"Sit down."

"What?" Hadn't Micah heard him? Hadn't he heard him just confess to killing a man?

"You're shaking, you need to sit down."

Micah had just taken a step towards him, was slowly edging closer, but he was already too close, already invading his space, the space he needed right now. "What I need to do is leave, get as far away from here as possible, and what you need is for me to be gone!"

"No." He was more than a little thrown by what Aaron had just said, but he knew he had to instil some calm into his voice, knew he had to somehow take charge of the situation. ''That's just what you don't need, to be on your own, to run from someone who cares about you, who wants you in his life. You're not going anywhere, Aaron. It's time to stop running away."

Again, he was struggling to digest Micah's words, to make sense of them, he didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. "But, what I did?"

"What? You expect me to act as Judge and juror? Well, someone already has! If you want me to do what they didn't, to condemn you, to damn you, then think again. I can understand what you did and why, and I know that it was done out of love, that you did what your heart told you to do that day... and that it was broken in the process. Now, please, sit down."

He let Micah lead him over to a chair, his leaden legs threatening to betray him at any time. Micah was right, he had needed to sit down, once again his emotions had got the better of him, only this time it had left him weak, drained. As he tried to rein in those emotions, to regain some physical strength, Micah set a glass of water into his still-trembling hand, moving then to sit opposite him at the table. Concern was all he could see in the grey eyes, and he realised just how very wrong he'd been last night, how he'd somehow managed to twist things, that it wasn't just some basic need drawing them together... no, Micah did truly care about him, and he cared equally about Micah. But that wasn't enough, was it? Not when they came from so very different worlds? He was so confused right now, he needed to think, but Micah was talking to him again...

"There's a lot you haven't said, a lot you haven't told me." He knew Aaron had only skimmed the surface, that there was a lot more buried hurt and anguish that desperately needed to be aired.

"Now's not the time, you've got to be somewhere else." He had no intention of sharing anything else with Micah.

"And as soon as I turn my back, you'll be gone..."

"No." Right now, he wasn't sure what he'd do, his head was all over the place, and doing another runner was still a very real possibility, but he couldn't admit to that.

"If you could look me in the eye and say that, then I would believe you, but you can't, can you?" The averted gaze was all the confirmation he needed. So where did he go from here? All he knew for sure was that he had to keep Aaron talking; he didn't want him clamming up on him, closing down, shutting him out. This was almost certainly his one and only chance to reach him, "So, you took off after the trial and have been running ever since?"

"No." He met Micah's questioning gaze, he hadn't wanted to say anything else, he'd said more than enough as it was, but found he couldn't stop himself from opening up some more, "I tried, I went back to work, I tried to get on with my life... but I was making their lives hell."

"Who? Your family? Your friends? What about your parents, Aaron? Have you been in touch with them? Do they have any idea where you are?" He'd suspected that there wasn't anyone, no one close anyway, he'd be more than happy to be proved wrong about that.

"They're better off not knowing..."

"That's not your decision to make, they at least have a right to know you're safe, they have a right to some peace of mind."

He shook his head scornfully at that comment, well, when had they ever known peace of mind where he was concerned? "You don't know what I've put them through..."

"What you're putting them through now has to beat anything else hands down!"

"No." He'd caused them all so much worry these last few years, so much heartache, he'd had Paddy and Rhona at each other's throat, his mum and Hazel tearing strips off each other. How could it be any worse for them with him gone? Why were they talking about them anyway? "This isn't about them!"

"But it is, because you need them, Aaron..."

"No, I don't need anyone."

"We all need someone. You need them... and you need me."

He opened his mouth ready to deny that, but realised he couldn't, Micah would see right through the lie, and it would be a lie. Instead, he turned the older man's words back on him, in what he knew was a desperate, feeble attempt to make him see he wasn't what Micah needed... he couldn't be! "Well, you don't need the likes of me in your life!"

"You hate yourself, don't you?"

"Trust me, there's nothing to like!"

"You think that's going to scare me off? I'm wise to you now, Aaron. You might have pushed everyone else away, distanced yourself both physically and emotionally... but I'm not going to let you push me away."

He was floundering helplessly now, but not quite ready to admit defeat, "Micah, if you knew me, really knew me..."

"Aaron, you're just very lost right now, and that's because you've lost sight of why you did what you did. You're hurting and you're scared, but most of all you're angry at yourself. That has to change! You have to face what you feel, work through it, let the hurt and the anger go. You have to stop punishing yourself, because that's what it all boils down to, you're doing what you believe the court failed to do.

"It won't be easy and it will take time, and it's not something you can do on your own. The first step is a big one, and for you, it could be the biggest step of all... because first, you have to accept that you need help, that you need my help, that you need me."

He wanted to tell Micah he was wrong, that he'd got it all wrong, and that he didn't need help, especially not his. But the denials wouldn't come, and not because there was no fight left in him, but because he just couldn't lie to him... because whatever it was he felt for Micah wouldn't let him.

Micah was looking at him expectantly, waiting on his response, and he was about to give him one... the very one he wanted to hear.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Micah had obviously been a little wary about leaving, about leaving him, and Aaron could understand why: he had run out on him before, and Micah knew he'd had it in his head to do so again.

He'd been about to open the front door, but had hesitated and looked back over his shoulder at him, a questioning look in his eye, he knew immediately what the older man was thinking and had jumped right in with some reassurance, "I'm not going anywhere."

Micah's face had brightened at that, a smile tugging at his lips as he'd walked outside into the early morning rain.

While Micah was doing what he did, he intended to make himself useful. He knew that, if he didn't occupy himself, he'd start brooding, maybe even start questioning his most recent decision, and he didn't want to come anywhere close to doing that.

The house was clean and tidy, but he was certain he could find things to do if he looked hard enough. Before Rhona had come along, he and Paddy had shared the household chores, well not shared exactly, but he'd certainly helped out. He was going to have to do better than that here; he was going to have to pull his weight.

There was at least one load of washing waiting to be done and the weather being wet it meant he'd have to stick it in the tumble dryer if it was to ever dry. He could sort the fire out, set it ready to light later, and then there was the task of bringing in logs from the pile stacked near the back door. What else could he add to his to-do list? From what Micah had said in passing, the garden shed needed a good clear out but he'd need better weather to do that.

What he really needed to do with his time right now was find a job, he couldn't expect to sit idly by while Micah worked, while Micah kept him fed and kept a roof over his head... he'd heard of a kept woman but not of a kept man, and he hated the very thought of it. They had talked about it, him and Micah, when he'd first agreed to stay; Micah had said he would ask around but, in the meantime, he could help with some voluntary work if he wanted. He wasn't sure what that would entail, wasn't sure he wanted to find out either, he wasn't like Micah, he didn't have his temperament, his open, outgoing personality... let alone his calling to help others. No, maybe it would be better if he steered well clear of that side of his life.

As he stuffed the contents of the laundry basket into the washing machine, he remembered how Micah had earlier encouraged him to phone home, to at least text and let them know he was ok. He'd promised to think about it, and on remembering that promise, decided his next job would be to charge his phone. That was something, wasn't it? A step in the right direction at least. Telling himself to concentrate on the job at hand, he poured some detergent in what he thought, hoped, was the right compartment; he wasn't sure how to work this machine, it wasn't like the one he was used to using at Paddy's. After randomly pressing a few buttons, it began to fill with water and, satisfied it was doing its job, he then made his way upstairs.

His phone was tucked at the bottom of his rucksack, buried under his clothes... he was still to unpack, and now he'd realised that he wasn't sure what he should do with his stuff. Should he put it in the spare room's wardrobe or in Micah's? He was sharing his bed, so... then again; maybe he should ask him first? Or maybe he should just move everything of his... which wasn't much... in with Micah's stuff, showing him he was taking the relationship seriously, and at the same time that he really wasn't planning on legging it again. After some more thought on the matter, he'd decided that that was the right thing to do, so with his phone now plugged into a wall socket, he opened Micah's wardrobe. It didn't surprise him to find that there wasn't all that much in there. Micah wasn't the materialistic type, and what he had was simple, plain, he certainly wasn't fashion-conscious, well neither was he, he knew what he liked and stuck to it.

With his things now put away, he found himself looking around the bedroom. He'd not paid much attention to it before, he'd been otherwise engaged when in here previously and it had been mostly dark. Like the rest of the house the room had a minimal look, yet it was cosy, he certainly felt comfortable here, at ease somehow, like he belonged... and he hadn't felt like that in a long time.

Something had just caught his eye, a framed photograph, one of Micah with another man. He stepped over to it, snatching it up for a closer look. He knew instantly it was Micah's boyfriend, the one who'd died. Something else just as evident in the captured moment in time, was that they were happy, in love. He hadn't asked Micah about him, he didn't even know his name, he felt guilty about that now, at his selfish lack of interest. So far, it had all been about him, him and his problems, his pain. Micah must still be hurting, still feel his loss, must still have times when he needed to unload some of that pain... well, he was here for those times now. He at least understood that depth of pain, the agonizing ache of loss. He'd thought them very different, and they were in so many ways, but they had one very important fact in common, they'd both lost someone they'd loved, someone they'd been in love with.

The sound of his phone suddenly bursting into life made him start, he set the picture down carefully, it was obviously something Micah treasured, and he felt a little guilty for touching it now, as if he'd intruded on a private memory. His attention then turned back to his mobile, to the seemingly endless stream of alert tones now coming from it. Texts, missed calls, voice mails, it seemed they hadn't given up on trying to reach him. His thoughts drifted back to the night he'd left Emmerdale, he'd started hitching a lift once clear of Hotton, a long distance lorry driver had picked him up, and after they'd exhausted all topics of conversation, he'd pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a message, sending it to everyone he thought would notice him gone. It was simple and to the point, telling them he'd left and wouldn't be coming back. He realised now how thoughtless, how cruel a text it was. They'd deserved better than that, some reassurance from him that he was alright at least. Micah was right, he had to get in touch, not just yet though; he needed to work himself up to it, another selfish act but it was that or nothing right now.

Moving over to the room's one and only window, he looked out at the road below, he could see the God Brigade making their way to church... that thought brought him up short. He was going to have to watch what he said around Micah, he didn't want to offend him in anyway, and a comment like that just might. He suddenly wondered if Micah's congregation knew he was gay… 'of course they did', he reasoned. Another thought struck him then, 'just how easy was it for him being gay and a vicar? Wouldn't the Church have issues with that? Again, he realised that it was something he should have asked Micah about, he should have shown some kind of interest in his work at least. It was another reminder of just how one-sided it was, how it had so far all revolved around him. He was going to have to make a conscious effort to change that.

If he was to be completely honest, the fact Micah was a vicar still hadn't sunk in; he was still struggling to get his head around it. There was nothing stuffy or straitlaced about him, he was nothing at all like Ashley and Ashley was exactly how he imagined a vicar to be... old, boring, narrow-minded and a prude to boot. Well, Micah was none of those things, he was anything but.

The sudden silence had him turn around and eye his phone again, the alerts having finally come to an end. He wanted to leave it where it was, walk out the door and forget about it. He'd managed to do just that for the last few months but, he found he couldn't.

With a resigned sigh, he walked over to it, picked it up and began to scroll through the names highlighted on the screen. Paddy's, his mum's, Hazel's, there were even texts and calls from Cain and Adam. It would take forever to read them all, he didn't want to anyway, he knew exactly what they'd say, and so with the press of a button, he deleted them.

Sitting down on the bed, he started to tap out a message, he knew it was the coward's way to get in touch but, he wasn't ready to talk to any one of them, not yet. He'd been going to switch it off, try and forget about what he'd just done but, almost immediately, it had started to ring, Paddy's name flashing up at him. He told himself to ignore it, but was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to hear the older man's voice.

Accepting the call, he held the phone to his ear... and there it was, the outpouring of relief, of concern, of love...

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

Part 13

Micah had said he'd probably be gone for hours and, as it turned out, he was right. Apart from taking the morning service, he'd had home visits to make. Aaron guessed it was them that were eating away at his time.

There had been a strange mix of actually missing him, wanting him there, and relief at having some time alone to compose himself, to quell the rebellious tears that, even an hour after his and Paddy's brief conversation, continued to quietly fall. Paddy had been emotional and it had rubbed off all too easily on him. Paddy had done most of the talking too, like always. He'd wanted constant reassurance from him that he was alright, he'd asked repeatedly where he was, at one point demanding that he tell him so he could come pick him up and take him home. The older man had had to accept he wasn't ready for that step yet and had made him promise to keep in touch, and to ring his mum. She was, according to Paddy, 'going out of her mind with worry'.

They hadn't got passed that kind of stuff, the emotions had got in the way, so no serious talking had been done. When it looked like the conversation was going to turn that way, when it seemed Paddy was in pursuit of some answers, he'd made some excuse and ended the call, switching off his phone before it had a chance to ring again.

He'd gone straight downstairs and made himself a drink, intent on getting on with some chores, but he'd sat down at the table instead, and there he'd stayed, his thoughts eventually straying to the past and staying there. It was the sort of brooding he'd desperately wanted to avoid.

He'd only realized what he'd been doing when the front door had opened and Micah had walked in. It was that sudden activity that had jolted him out of his reverie and on to his feet. Switching on the kettle, he tried not to meet Micah's gaze, but that, of course, proved impossible. The older man had come home laden with plastic containers, the type you took your lunch to work in; Micah was soon explaining their presence.

"Mrs. Dean, over at Highgate. She's riddled with arthritis, more or less housebound these days, but she can still cook up a storm! Every Sunday, she makes something for me, she's made enough to feed the five thousand this week!"

Aaron guessed there was a joke there somewhere but it was lost on him; still, he'd forced a smile, hoping to put Micah off the scent of him being on a downer, and failing miserably.

"You ok?"

He'd reassured him he was as he set two mugs of tea on the table. Micah seemed accepting of his reassurance because he didn't press him any further, instead he'd handed him the containers, asking him to pick something out for their lunch while he went upstairs to change. He'd heaved a sigh of relief, it gave him a bit more time to get his act together.

On opening his wardrobe door, Micah realized that in his absence, he had accumulated a few more items of clothing. It had made him smile and, for a little while, the development had eclipsed his concerns over Aaron. He might have said he was ok but, the redness around his eyes told a different story. Something had got to him; was it what he'd shared with him earlier or something else? Replacing what he liked to call his work clobber with an old sweater, he made for the door, noticing something else of Aaron's as he did so. Had he phoned home? Was that what had upset him? Because something certainly had.

He found the younger man plating up the casserole Eliza Dean had made him. Aaron had his back turned to him so he got right up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, quietly sharing something in his ear, "Seeing your trackies hanging next to my jeans is something of a turn on!" The teasing had earned him a genuine smile, and he felt Aaron relax in his arms. But, for the life of him, he just couldn't leave things at that, "That's not all you did this morning though, is it?" He felt Aaron tense again, a second later he was pulling away from him, putting some distance between the two of them before responding to his question.

"No."

He could, probably should have asked if Aaron wanted to talk about it, but decided not to give him any option. Pulling out a chair, he eased himself down onto it as he ploughed on in with, "So, what happened?" He hoped Aaron would join him at the table, and after a few seconds hesitation he did, and in an accusatory tone said,

"I did what you told me to do."

Micah wasn't sure what was going on in Aaron's head but was certain he needed pushing into talking about it, "And now you're wishing you hadn't?"

"Yes! No, it's just… I wish I'd done it before now."

"Did they give you a hard time?"

"No, it was just hard listening to Paddy, he kept asking me to go home…"

"Aaron, if you'd rather be there…"

"No, I don't want to go back there, not yet anyway."

"The next time will be easier."

He was about to say there wasn't going to be a next time, not if it was going to cut him up this much, but a loud knocking on the front door had him swallow his words. Micah had immediately got to his feet but, before he'd even reached the door to the hallway, the knocking had come again, louder and more insistent. It seemed someone else was in need of Micah's help, hopefully not another battered wife.

Thinking it best to keep out of the way, he'd remained seated, picking up his tea and sipping on it. Only when all hell suddenly broke out along the passageway did he get to his feet.

Someone, some nut-job had Micah pinned up against the wall, he watched in stunned fascination as Micah reasoned calmly with the other man, his voice all but drowned out by anger-fuelled threats and demands. It seemed their unwanted guest was missing a wife and was holding Micah responsible.

The anger had come out of nowhere, the next thing he knew he was hauling the stranger off of Micah, violently shoving him backwards out the door, and all the time yelling some threats of his own. His appearance was obviously unexpected and had shaken the other man. He wasn't so brave now, he was making for the gate, he was still shouting threats though and as he'd made to go after him, determined to shut him up one way or another, Micah had caught hold of him and wrestled him inside, pleading with him to calm down.

Once in the kitchen, Micah had shut the door behind him, standing there silently, watching him pace, watching him as he tried to walk off his rage. He wasn't quiet for long though, he soon found his voice, his words echoing his astonishment.

"What the hell's got into you?"

Micah had just had his eyes opened, just not enough, squaring up to him, he snarled back, "This is the real me, Micah! I'm no better than that tosspot out there. At some point, you're going to get in my face, push me too far and I'm going to snap! I'll turn on you, that's not the first time I've lost it and it won't be the last. Is that the sort of person you want in your life?'' He should have stopped there, but the venom was flowing again, and he was needing to spit some poison, "Yeah, maybe it is! You needed a bit of rough in your sad, boring, righteous life and now you've had a taste of what you're missing you can't let go, that's the real reason you want me to stay, isn't it?" He'd just hurt Micah again, he could see it in his eyes, it was enough to shut him up, to have him start regretting his outburst.

"You finished? Good, because I'm going to tell you how it really is, Aaron. Something throws you, spooks you and up go the defenses. You mouth off because you know how words can hurt, just how deep a wound they can make. This is you pushing me away again. Just half a day in and you're already getting ready to run! Well, you know where the door is, what you waiting for?"

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

Well, what was he waiting for? He didn't know. Micah had just given him the green light... only he hadn't, not really. He was forcing his hand, daring him almost. And it would be so easy to make for the door, collect his stuff and take off. With every step, he would tell himself he'd done the right thing, that he didn't need Micah, and Micah certainly didn't need him. But they were old and tried excuses now, weren't they? Ones he'd already reasoned against.

A few miles down the road, he would start regretting his decision, but would be too stubborn to turn around and come back, and so he would keep on walking, running as Micah called what he did, what he'd made a habit of doing when he was scared or when life got a little too tough.

He wouldn't have shed any pain in his time here; he would just have added to it, because he would have the pain of losing Micah, too.

"I don't want to go." The admission had taken him by surprise, he hadn't been ready to air his thoughts aloud, not when he was still turning them over in his head and especially not when he was so very wary of Micah's reaction. Which, it turned out, surprised him too, it really took him aback. Micah had just resumed his seat at the table, picked up his mug and started to drink the tea it contained... just like nothing had happened, only something had, something ugly and unpleasant.

There was no verbal comeback, no invite from Micah to join him, no further encouragement for him to go, so he just stood there, in a sort of limbo. He eventually realised the ball was in his court, he just wasn't sure what to do with it. The answer came, eventually, well it was staring him in the face, and so he, too, sat back down, ready as he ever would be to talk, and knowing the first thing past his lips had to be an apology. "I'm sorry."

"That was you getting all protective, wasn't it?"

He felt a rush of heat to his cheeks and had to look away, suddenly embarrassed, he realised with a jolt that it was exactly why he'd reacted the way he did, because someone had dared lay a hand on Micah, had got violent with him; his reaction had been extreme but, at least, he could understand it now.

"If you knew me better, Aaron, you'd know there was no need, I can look after myself."

He wanted to argue that point, because from where he was standing, Micah had looked in desperate need of some help, but then he didn't really know Micah, not like he should, the older man could have a black belt in karate for all he knew. "I want to..." he paused, struggling with another admission, having to force out the remaining words, "I want to know you better, I... I want to know all there is to know."

"You already know I'm sad, boring and righteous, so you're off to a good start!"

Micah was teasing him now, he could see a mischievous glint in his eyes, he was trying to put him at ease, wanting to make it easier for him to open up. Still, he couldn't see the funny side, he wasn't prepared to even try, he just wanted to somehow take back what he'd said, "I didn't mean that, I'm sorry..."

"I know you are, just like I know you're nothing like that idiot that's just been here. You're nothing like the Tom Bryant's of the world. With him, it's all to do with power, control, he wants to be the big man. If only he realised just how small his actions make him. With you, it's a build-up of emotion, not knowing how to control it, how to channel it."

"You don't have to make excuses for me, Micah..."

"I'm not, I wouldn't do that, I just want you to see there are reasons for the way you are, for the things you do, and that understanding a problem, getting to the root of it, is the best way of conquering it."

"Counselling?" That's what Micah was working up to suggesting, wasn't it?

"You've thought about it, then?"

"Tried not to more like! Paddy suggested it, he more or less ordered me to have it. Things were getting out of control... I was getting out of control. That last night at home... I wasn't home, that's just it. I spent the night in a police cell, for being drunk and disorderly, mouthing off at the cops. Paddy came to pick me up so I mouthed off at him, kicked his car door in. But he's like you, he won't give up on me."

"Whoever this Paddy is, I like the sound of him, he obviously cares a great deal about you."

He hadn't given Micah any details about his home life, he had let him believe he had two parents in the picture, that he came from an ordinary family. Well, there was nothing ordinary about his lot, nothing straightforward, it had been a right mess, or had been until Paddy had come along. "It's a long story."

"And one I'd like to hear."

"But, Micah, about before..." Were they just going to pretend his flare-up had never happened? Sweep it under the carpet? Was that the right thing to do?

"Let it go, Aaron, look at it as a hiccup in proceedings, don't let it become something else you hold on to and use to punish yourself."

He wanted to promise it wouldn't happen again, but he didn't want to make a promise that there was no guarantee of him keeping, as much as he wanted too. "Ok."

"Well, come on, tell me, what's Paddy to you?"

He sat back in his chair, wondering just where to start to answer that one.

/

It was Monday morning, another wet day, the rain pelting against the kitchen window, driven by a howling gale. As he stared out at the downpour, he reminded himself he could be out in that, trudging down some endless road or country lane, cold, wet and hungry, just like he had been when he'd first met Micah. Yesterday, Micah had saved him from that misery again, had saved him from himself.

The morning might have been a near-disaster but, the rest of the day had been good, better than good, they'd talked and he'd made sure it wasn't all about himself, he'd got to know more about Micah too, about his family, even a little about Matt, how he'd died, how he'd lost a hard-fought battle with illness. They'd only touched on that part of Micah's past, he was wise enough to know that it wasn't really the time to go down that path, but one day, soon, when it wasn't so much about him settling in... well, they would go back there, he'd make sure of that.

Micah was on the phone in the hallway, had been for the last ten minutes or so. It was only nine o'clock and it was already the third call he'd taken this morning, he knew they weren't social calls, that they were all in some way to do with his work. He knew Micah's work was going to keep him busy most of today, too, and that meant he was going to have to find something to do himself. There was only so much domesticity he was willing to expose himself to. He was itching to do some real work, he really missed working with cars, cars he was interested in, cars he understood. He planned on using Micah's computer to help hunt down a job, and according to him, the local paper came out the next day. There just might be something in that, there probably wouldn't be any mechanics jobs going, that was too much to ask for, but he'd take just about anything right now, he hated leaching of Micah, not that he saw it that way.

He was just about to take Micah's tea into the hallway when he walked into the room. He knew instantly Micah's mood had changed, something had knocked the smile off his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Same old, same old, the Bishop wants to see me."

"You in the dog house again."

"It looks that way."

"So, what have you done this time? Stolen from the collection plate?" He knew Micah would laugh at his teasing, and he did, but the amusement just didn't reach his eyes, and that told him he had to take this a bit more seriously, "You've got no idea what it's about?"

Micah wasn't sure how best to answer that question. Did he tell a white lie and say no, hope he could straighten things out before telling Aaron, or did he admit he did, and throw the younger man a curve ball in the process? Someone, and he had a good idea who... well, she did live just across the road and was a well-known curtain-shifter, had talked! It had to be her, it had to be Milly Holden who'd reported 'the goings-on at the vicarage', the 'yob' he'd taken in, the one who yesterday had assaulted a parishioner!

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

Part 15

In the end, the decision had been an easy one, and that was to be upfront with Aaron, fill him in on what the phone call had been about. He wouldn't appreciate not being told, no matter how good his intentions.

What wasn't so easy was the actual telling, the explaining of why the Bishop's secretary had phoned him first thing that morning. Annie shouldn't really have given him any details, but she had a soft spot for him and wanted to give him some warning of what was coming his way. He was more than grateful to her, he'd have hated to walk into the Bishop's office and find himself confronted with that, at least now he was prepared and wouldn't have to think on his feet.

An array of emotions had, one by one, appeared on Aaron's face, as he realised there was some fallout over yesterday's events. He himself wasn't too concerned, he was just worried that Aaron would take it to heart, have something else to feel guilty about.

"Look, don't worry, I'll sort it out, I'll tell him how it really is, what really happened..."

"And what are you going to say? That you picked up some runaway off the street? That on closer inspection, you realised you fancied the pants off him... and did... literally?"

He couldn't help but laugh at Aaron's choice of phrasing, "Well, if you put it like that, then I'm a doomed man..."

"Micah, it's not funny!" How could he laugh about something like that, he was in trouble because of him, him and his temper.

"No, it's not, but it's also not true, and once the Bishop hears my side of things, he'll realise that, end of story."

"I don't think so somehow."

"Aaron, the Bishop's just doing his job, he has to act on these things, but he's a reasonable man, a good man, nothing will come of it."

"So, what are you going to say? How are you going to explain me being here for starters?"

"I am allowed to have people stay, I'm not a hermit or a monk for that matter..."

"You could tell him I'm a friend." 'That,' Aaron reasoned, 'might save Micah some grief.'

"That wouldn't be the whole truth though, would it? We're more than friends, Aaron, a lot more, we're lovers, we're...''

"You can't tell him that!" They'd only just met! The Bishop wouldn't understand what was between them, it just wouldn't reflect well on Micah, not with him being what he was. "What's he going to think? What's he going to say?"

"Well, once he's picked his chin up off the floor, I..."

"Micah!" He was doing it again, joking about something he was in deep shit over.

"Well, you're taking this way too seriously." Exactly what he hadn't wanted Aaron to do.

"And you're not taking it seriously enough."

"But I am, me and the Bishop are old sparring partners, he likes me, he probably wouldn't admit to it, but he does, it'll be fine, I know it will." He was certain it would be, he and John Peters often butted heads, but he'd always found him to be fair.

"I'm sorry." So far, he'd not said that but he was, truly sorry. He wasn't sure just what trouble it would cause for Micah, a quiet telling off or something at the other end of the scale, him getting sacked! No, now he was overreacting! Still, whatever happened, it didn't look good, did it, a vicar shacked up with a hot tempered chav!

/

Micah's meeting with the Bishop was taking place at one, he had promised to drop by the house right after to let him know how it had gone. In the meantime, he'd parked himself in the living room, was sitting at Micah's computer desk, trawling through the few websites he'd found that offered any possibility of a job. There wasn't much going locally; in fact, he'd only come across one vacancy and it held absolutely no appeal... there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of him becoming an apprentice hairdresser! He wasn't that desperate for work... well, he was, but he'd rather starve than do that. Hopefully, the paper Micah mentioned would have something more appropriate in it.

Eyeing the clock on the mantelpiece, he felt a pang of concern, Micah was being grilled about what had happened right about now. 'Setting the record straight,' as Micah had called it. He hoped it proved as simple as he'd made it sound.

He decided to make himself a drink, and raid the biscuit tin too, he would then dunk to his heart's content, indulge in some comfort food, while he waited for Micah to come home.

As he got to his feet, he heard someone rap on the front door. His first thought was to ignore it, it wouldn't be for him. Still, he'd made his way into the hallway, opened the door and was instantly wishing he hadn't. One look at the grey-haired man he found standing there told him he was important, in Micah's life he was anyway. He wore similar clothes to Micah's, except where Micah's shirt was a drab grey colour, this man's was purple.

"Good afternoon, I'm Bishop Peters, who might you be?"

The greeting was both friendly and cheerful, but Aaron had realised with horror that this was 'the' Bishop, the one Micah answered to. "Aaron."

"Aaron! That's a fine name, a biblical name, he was a brother to Moses, you've heard of him, I presume?"

"Yes." He'd heard the name before, although that probably had more to do with his family's habit of landing their kids with biblical names. He most likely had an Uncle Moses somewhere. The naming was a joke come to think of it; just look at what his mum was called!

"I called on the off chance Reverend James was home, is he here?"

"No."

"Would you be expecting him anytime soon?"

"Yes." He knew the one-word answers weren't doing him any favours, but he was scared of saying the wrong thing, something that came all too easy to him. For Micah's sake he had to keep a civil tongue in his head. "Do you want to come in and wait?" He couldn't not offer, could he? He stepped to one side leaving the way clear for the older man to enter, closing the door before reluctantly following him into the kitchen.

Once seated, the Bishop eyed him expectantly, saying, "A cup of tea would be most welcome."

He instantly sprang into action, wishing he'd remembered his manners and had been the one to offer. He just felt so nervous, so on edge, and one thought kept going through his mind, 'if the Bishop was here, where the hell was Micah?'

After setting two cups of tea on the table, he sat himself down opposite the other man, trying to think of something, anything to make conversation. Once again, it was the Bishop who took the lead.

"You know why I'm here, don't you, Aaron?"

There was something about the way the Bishop had said those words, something in his tone of voice he found reassuring, like he was aware of his discomfort and wanted to put him at ease, it was working, too. "Yeah. Look, it wasn't Micah's fault...'' Once he'd started, he couldn't stop, his earlier hesitancy suddenly turning to verbal diarrhoea. Explanation given, he waited for the Bishop's response.

"I didn't think it would be quite the way I heard it, the real version not being nearly so dramatic, but dramatic enough, I suppose. Micah has a penchant for attracting trouble... that comment is not aimed at you, by the way! I can't help but worry about him, and believe me, he's given me cause these last few years."

Micah and trouble! They somehow didn't go hand in hand. Now him and trouble, that was a different matter. He'd started to relax a little now, he found himself liking the Bishop, and what he'd said about Micah was now registering and had him wanting to know more, "What'd you mean?" The Bishop had opened his mouth as if to answer, then seemingly, change his mind, looking thoughtful before finally asking,

"It's none of my business, I know, but, you and Micah, are you... what is it you young people say these days... an item?"

"Yes, yes we are." He hadn't hesitated, had come right back with his answer, now what would the Bishop have to say about that?

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

Aaron wasn't expecting the Bishop's first reaction to be a smile. A look of horror on his face, yes, one of shock maybe, or even of surprise, but not for him to look at all pleased, but he did!

"I thought so or, rather, I hoped so."

He didn't know what to make of that comment. It was something else he found himself struggling to get his head around. The other man knew nothing about him, except that he'd seen a violent Tom Bryant off church premises... with some physical force and aggression of his own! That wasn't something that could work in his favour, could it? Was this conversation really taking place?

The Bishop was talking again, he told himself to concentrate, to stop letting his thoughts stray.

"After Matthew... you know about Matthew, I take it?"

"Yes."

"Yes, well after he died, Micah threw himself into his work, he left no time for himself. Oh, he's grieved, moved on as they say but, there's been no one else. That's why I'm delighted to hear there is, at last, someone new in his life. Have the two of you been together long?

The sudden, unexpected question threw him, and he couldn't hide his discomfort as he admitted, "Not long." Three days, three nights was nothing, it was no time at all, but it seemed like he'd known Micah forever. The Bishop wouldn't understand that though.

"Forgive me, I'm prying. Like I said, it's none of my business. It's just... well, I know Micah thinks God put me on this Earth just to give him a hard time but, in reality, it's the other way round. Micah is a law to himself, he takes such risks. There's an old saying, fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Micah's no fool, but then he doesn't think twice about getting involved with things it would be wise to avoid. He needs someone, something... an anchor in his life..."

The front door had just opened, drawing the Bishop's attention; his, though, was still on the older man. He couldn't make head nor tail of what he'd been telling him. What sort of risks did Micah take? And what did he mean by an anchor? And should he be telling him all this anyway?

Micah had now walked into the room, Aaron's gaze moving to settle on him. He could see that the grey eyes were now locked on the Bishop, and that Micah didn't look at all happy to see him.

"What are you doing here?"

Micah's tone of voice confirmed Aaron's suspicions and he wondered if he should maybe make himself scarce, leave the two older men to it. He quickly decided against that idea, thinking it might be better if he stuck around.

"Aaron and I were just getting to know each other."

"You cancelled our meeting! You said something had come up, that you had to be in Dulton, and now you're here. Why?"

"That spot of business in Dulton didn't take quite as long as expected, and as I was in the area I thought I might just catch you in."

"Catch me out more like!"

"Now, Micah..."

"You couldn't just wait and give me the opportunity to explain, to give you my version of events. You had to come and see for yourself if what that old harridan said was true."

"Micah..."

"You know how she likes to stir things up, how she fills in any and all gaps in a story with figments of her vivid imagination..."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of how Mrs Holden likes to embellish the truth... God forgive me, that wasn't particularly charitable of me... but it was true all the same."

The Bishop had just winked at him, his green eyes twinkling wickedly, and despite everything, Micah's mood especially, Aaron found himself grinning, he really did like this man. Micah was annoyed with him though, that was painfully obvious. And maybe because that emotion was clouding his mind right now, he didn't seem to have heard a word of what the Bishop had said to him, the conciliatory tone he'd used, and had totally missed the fact he was well aware of what had really gone on, because he'd just launched into another tirade.

"She phones you every time I as much as sneeze! She doesn't like my hair, she doesn't like my clothes, or the fact I like a pint or three... she hates everything there is about me..." And because she did, she made a habit of letting his superiors know whenever she believed he'd stepped out of line, whenever it looked like he'd done something that might reflect badly on the Church.

"Micah! Millicent is, I will admit, a little old-fashioned, but she has your best interests at heart..."

"Yeah, right!" More like she twisted things so as to drop him in it from a great height. She could fire whatever ammunition she liked at him, but not at Aaron, she'd involved him and he wasn't prepared to let her start using him for target practice too.

"She obviously overreacted in this instance, let that imagination of hers get the better of her once again, but her actions were, I'm certain, purely out of concern for you. You have to admit she's witnessed things in the past that give credence to that."

"What things?" Again, Aaron's curiosity was piqued, what had this Milly woman seen? What was he missing here? Just what had Micah done that caused so much concern? He might be very much in the dark still but this was all starting to prove a bit of an eye-opener where Micah was concerned.

"It was nothing."

He didn't like the way Micah had so casually dismissed his question, and the Bishop was soon making it clear that he wasn't impressed by it either.

"I wouldn't call some crowbar-wielding ruffian, turning up here at two in the morning, smashing the windows 'nothing' Micah! Especially not when it was you he wanted to do some damage to!

"What?" Aaron exclaimed. What the hell? Micah was a vicar, why would anyone want to hurt him?

"It was a warning, that's all."

"And it wasn't the first or the last and it was later acted upon, remember? Not something I choose to forget even if you can, and not something I believe Aaron would be able to forget either..."

"Micah?" He wanted some answers and he wanted them now. It didn't seem he was about to get any though, Micah's gaze was locked with the Bishop's. He looked about to speak, to try and regain some of the ground he'd just lost, but the phone started to ring, and it proved the perfect distraction, because he turned around and headed into the hallway to answer it. Well, he wasn't going to wait for him to get around to telling him what he wanted to know, and so he eyed the Bishop expectantly, he was going to have to fill him in. The older man hesitated only briefly, glancing through the open doorway to where Micah now stood, well out of earshot.

"I might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, I suppose! This is a small parish, Aaron, there's certainly not enough going on here to feed Micah's enthusiasm, his need to help, his thirst to make right all that's wrong, so he inevitably ventured further afield. The nearby towns, the city, they all seem innocuous enough places, but take a closer look and you find the unthinkable, the things most of us would rather not see, pretend didn't exist. At first, it was the homeless, the runaways he was involved with. Sadly, for a great many of them, they're just a step away from things like prostitution, alcohol and drug addiction, and whatever other nastiness there is out there. Micah put himself in the thick of it. He's made a difference, yes, but at a price, he crossed people you don't cross, he made enemies. Some would say he's just answering his calling, doing his job and doing it well. I would say he's careless with his very life, and that he needs to value it more. I believe he would if there was a centre to his universe, some sort of gravitational pull, something he couldn't ignore, something he had to respect... something he couldn't bear to lose."

If he was confused before, he was even more so now. He could imagine Micah being involved with such things, not backing down, not letting anything scare him off. What he couldn't understand, what he couldn't get straight in his head was that the Bishop was talking about him, that he seemed to think that he was the something, the someone that could save Micah from himself!

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

Before Aaron had had a chance to react, to respond in any way, the Bishop was getting to his feet, telling him he had to be going, that he had business elsewhere, and that he hoped they would meet again and soon. He'd got to his feet too, absently shaking the older man's proffered hand, still a little dazed by everything he'd just heard, by the morning's events in general.

He'd been following the older man to the door, intent on seeing him out, what with Micah being otherwise engaged, it seemed the right thing to do. In the process, he had started to wonder if he should maybe try and persuade the Bishop to stay, that would give Micah a chance to clear the air between the two of them. But he could see Micah was now making his way along the hallway, and so he hung back, giving the two men some privacy, thinking they would find it easier to talk without him there.

He set about washing the cups and could hear them talking above the sound of the running water. He couldn't make out what they were saying but one thing was clear, Micah didn't sound anywhere near as irritable as he'd done before. It seemed it was catching though, because he was starting to feel restless, uneasy.

The two men had just gone outside and Aaron told himself that in Micah's absence he had to get a grip, and not let himself get any more worked up. As it turned out, that was something that was easier said than done, because in the silence of the kitchen, with nothing to distract him, thoughts and images invoked by his conversation with the Bishop refused to be quashed, serving to feed his agitation.

It was a good ten minutes before Micah finally walked back in to the room, and he was, by then, more than ready for him... ready to have a pop at him. "You said he was a reasonable man, that he'd hear your side of the story and nothing would come of it, so what was all that about? Why'd you give him such a hard time?"

"You like him, then?"

That wasn't the comeback he'd expected, especially not accompanied by a grin. Micah was trying to jolly him along like he had earlier that morning, except that now it only served to wind him up some more! Still, he heard himself say, "Yeah..." because, of course, he liked the Bishop, he'd given him every reason to, and he could see he genuinely cared about Micah, and had picked up on the fact that he did too. "... he's sound."

Micah nodded his agreement, knowing the older man would be amused by Aaron's summing up of him, quickly going on to say something that would hopefully appease Aaron, "I just apologised to him."

"Right." That hadn't come as any great surprise, but it had thrown him off course a little, he wasn't ready to let Micah off with what had happened just yet, he couldn't believe he'd been so off with the other man, he'd been bang out of order, "You didn't give him a chance to explain."

"No, I was in the wrong and I told him so. When I saw his car, when I realised he was here, that you were having to face him alone..."

"That was you getting all protective, wasn't it?" Tossing Micah's words back at him was becoming a bit of a habit, but he'd just realised what was behind Micah's behaviour. Whereas he'd got all embarrassed when Micah had asked him that, Micah had acknowledged the truth with a smile.

"Yeah, it was. I got a bit carried away too." He knew how worried Aaron had been about his meeting with the Bishop, how he feared his actions were going to land him in trouble. He wasn't sure how he'd react to the Bishop showing up, but was certain it would unsettle him in some way; it didn't seem to take much.

It would be so easy to back off now, Micah's admission having all but disarmed him, but he wasn't going to. They were still to discuss the thing that had stirred him up the most, the thing that had had his stomach turning over. "What he said..."

"He was blowing things out of proportion." He didn't want Aaron doing the same.

"No, I don't think he was, I think you were playing it down. That warning he said was acted on? You got a good kicking, didn't you?"

"It wasn't that bad..."

"A hospital job?"

"Aaron..."

"Micah, I want to know!"

"Yes, a hospital job." He'd reluctantly spent a few days as an inpatient.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"It was months ago now..."

"I mean were you going to tell me what you do, the things you get involved in?"

"I have told you."

"Not in any great detail, you haven't. I thought you just handed out blankets, dished out soup and advice."

"That's exactly what I do..."

"I'm not stupid, Micah, so stop treating me like I am. That's just a small part of what you do, there's a lot more to it than that, and you've stirred up some shit in the process. Are they likely to come back..."

"Aaron, if you're scared..."

"I'm not scared for me! I'm scared for you. Micah, believe me, I really can look after myself, but you... what good are words against someone like that? You couldn't even talk that Bryant bloke down."

"I know what I'm doing."

"That's just it, you don't! I know the sort of people you're dealing with; I've been on the wrong side of them too. They don't forget and they don't forgive, what they do, Micah, is get even! You keep messing with the likes of them and you'll end up dead."

"What do you mean you've been on the wrong side of..."

"This isn't about me, it's about you." Micah wasn't going to get out of this by turning it back on him.

"Whatever trouble you were in, I'm guessing someone helped get you out of it. Am I right?"

He knew where this was going now, and grudgingly forced out, "Yeah."

"All I'm doing is providing the same kind of help, making sure it's there for those wanting it, needing it. Ask yourself where you would be now if there'd been no one in your corner."

"This is different..."

"No, it's not, not really. Aaron... if you're thinking of asking me to stop, please, don't."

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

He was sitting all alone at the kitchen table again. But not brooding this time, more getting his thoughts in order, taking stock of things, maybe even doing a little soul-searching.

Like the Bishop, Micah had needed to be someplace else, and he was starting to realise just how busy Micah's work kept him, that he was always at its beck and call. He could live with that, he didn't need to be with someone every minute of the day and night; he liked his own space, his own company, for limited spells he did anyway. But what he didn't like, what he found himself hating, was that Micah's involvement with the seedier side of life brought him to the attention of the ruthless, of the merciless bastards that traded on other people's misery and misfortune.

As he'd told Micah, he'd been involved with such low-lifes too. The McFarlanes to be exact. They were, he supposed, in comparison, 'small time', but as small an organisation as they were, they had had their fingers in just about every kind of pie. And they liked to act big; they had even been prepared to have him disappear for good. He was fifteen, just a kid! If the small fry could do something like that to him, what would the big fish do to Micah? Should he really get in their way, tread too heavily on their toes, that thing he wore around his neck wouldn't save him, nothing would.

He cared about Micah, really cared about him, and he'd realised he was falling in love with him. He hadn't known what was happening to him with Jackson, didn't know what he was feeling at the time, had gone out of his way to avoid thinking about it, had been too scared to work those feelings out, until it was too late.

But as he'd sat here purposefully thinking on such things, he'd realised it was happening again. There had been a moment of blind panic, but that's as a long as the fear had lasted, because he knew Micah was special, that Micah could be special to him... if he'd just let it happen, and he wanted it to happen. He wanted to be loved, wanted, needed. He wanted what he knew would make him complete, what would fill the empty place inside. He'd had it with Jackson for all of what seemed like a second, he'd had a taste, a glimpse of being truly happy, and now he realised he was just like everyone else, and that like everyone else he should reach out and grab what was there for the taking, not run from it.

He felt comfortable with Micah, at ease, even safe. He could be himself, Micah accepted him the way he was, so too everything he'd done. And Micah understood him, better than anyone else did... it hurt to say it because it felt like some sort of betrayal... but Micah understood him better than Jackson had. Micah could read him like a book and that had thrown him at times, but now he realised he liked that he could, and that it was a good thing, because that meant he didn't pose some complex puzzle to the older man, one he'd inevitably get tired of unravelling, one that, given time, he would give up on.

And just like Micah accepted everything he was, he had to do the same in return. The hardest part was to accept what he did, and learn to live with it.

It would be different if he was doing something wrong, something bad, he could fight him on it then, but he wasn't. He was helping clear up other people's mess, the mess they'd made of their lives. No, he couldn't ask him to stop doing what he felt such a great need to do. He could though ask him to be careful, to not take risks, and that's exactly what he'd done, what he'd said to Micah when he'd looked him in the eye saying, "If you're thinking of asking me to stop, please, don't."

His reply had been instant, had tripped quietly off his tongue, "I don't want you to get hurt, I don't want to lose someone else I care about. So what I am asking is for you to be careful, to not go doing anything stupid." Only now did he understand why it had come so easily to him.

Micah had promised him he wouldn't, had told him again that he knew what he was doing, before thanking him for understanding, for supporting him. He'd realised then just how much it had meant to him.

It had been a significant moment for both of them, and he knew it had brought them a little closer. Micah had kissed him, it had been another tender exchange of emotion, something words just couldn't express. But when Micah had pulled away, he'd been smiling, and had quickly changed the mood, throwing him with a suggestion, one that had seemingly come right out of the blue.

"How about we go out tonight, down a few pints, grab a take away?"

Looking back, he realised Micah had just wanted to take his mind off things, by doing some every day stuff, things a normal couple did.

The first thing out of his mouth had been 'no', but he should have known better than to put up any kind of protest. The reason behind his reluctance was pride. He didn't have any money, and nothing he'd want to be seen out in. He'd eventually had to admit that to Micah and, of course, he'd shot down his excuses, telling him when he did have money burning a hole in his pocket, then the drinks were on him and, as for clothes, well he wasn't planning on going anywhere fancy, just his local, and he could help himself to something of his, they were more or less the same size, so that was no problem. So left with no excuses, he'd eventually agreed. He was actually looking forward to it now.

The clothes thing had been something Micah had latched onto, and had used it to talk him into doing something else, into something he didn't think he was ready for yet, and that was into going home. Micah had said he didn't have to stay long, just long enough for Paddy and his mum to see for themselves that he was ok. He'd been adamant he wasn't going, but Micah wouldn't drop it, and had eventually cornered him with, "I thought you'd stopped running." He'd given up the fight then, admitted defeat.

This time next Saturday, he'd be back in Emmerdale, and as much as he missed everyone, he really wasn't looking forward to that!

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

The three-hour journey to Emmerdale was almost over, the village just a few miles away now. The view from his window was looking all so familiar to him, around every corner were landmarks he knew so well.

Micah had done a great job of buoying him up, of reassuring him, but every now and again his stomach would flip over in anticipation, and during the odd lull in conversation, when he'd start to dwell on what was to come, he'd force his mind onto something else. Right now, he was remembering... reliving Monday night, his first ever night out with Micah. It had been a laugh from start to finish, Micah had surprised him a time or two, but then Micah was full of surprises!

Things had kicked off with them getting ready. While Micah had showered, he'd picked through his clothes, he already knew there wasn't all that much to choose from and that Micah's tastes were simple. That meant he had a choice of jeans or... jeans! There was a bit more variety top-wise and he eventually settled on a shirt, simply because of its pale blue colour, nothing else had appealed to him.

He'd pulled on the jeans, and had half-buttoned up the shirt and was taking a wary look in the mirror. He didn't feel particularly comfortable in what he was wearing but it was either that or his own tatty stuff.

When he'd left home, when he'd 'run away', he'd grabbed the essentials, the basics, only as much as he could stuff into his rucksack, he'd left his better clobber behind, and what he had brought with him had suffered since because of wear and tear, the odd job he'd found being casual labour, farming mostly.

He'd never really dressed to impress before, and he wasn't now, but because he was going to Micah's local, he wanted to make some kind of an effort, he didn't want to show him up in any way... and that would mean he had to be on his best behaviour too...

Micah had just walked into the bedroom and had caught him checking himself out.

"No, your bum doesn't look big in them."

He should have known the teasing wouldn't end there. Micah was looking him up and down, grinning as he added, "You fill them out nicely."

He gave Micah his best scowl, but the other man was on a roll, seemingly unstoppable.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, you scrub up well...very well! It looks like you're in need of some help with those buttons though..."

"What?" Micah's hands were on him... only he wasn't fastening his shirt as he'd expected him to do from his comment... he was undoing the few buttons he'd previously secured. He was happy to let him do that, knowing where it was leading, but hadn't Micah forgotten something, "I thought we were going out."

"The pub's not going anywhere... and neither are we just yet!"

It was another hour at least before they'd finally walked into the King's Head, Micah leading the way. The sign outside the pub had read Karaoke Night and the event was already in full swing. Some wrinkly was in the process of murdering a song, one he didn't know, and didn't want to hear again anytime soon.

The place wasn't exactly packed but there was a good-sized crowd, and Micah seemed to know just about everyone there, greeting them by name and a warm smile.

Micah had turned to him at the bar and suggested he grab a table, adding, "And not one in a dark corner, I want to show you off."

He was teasing him again, and he'd grinned on cue even though he hadn't found it funny. It mattered what people thought of him, didn't it? In this particular neck of the woods, it did anyway, it mattered because of what Micah was, what he did. He was scared he'd fall far short of people's expectations, he had a past that let him down for starters... he told himself not to go there, not to put a dampener on things and made his way over to the nearest free table, acknowledging anyone who made eye contact with a nod of his head or a small smile, again determined to make the right sort of effort for Micah's sake.

He was, to his dismay, attracting a lot of attention, he wasn't imagining the inquisitive looks he was getting, knew the locals had to be wondering who he was, and just what he was doing with the Reverend Micah James, and were no doubt putting two and two together.

It was a relief when a few minutes later, Micah set a couple of pints down onto the table, and slid into the chair beside him. He'd wanted to know what he thought of the place, saying they could always move on somewhere else if he found the 'entertainment' too hard on the ears.

It had sounded a good idea to him, but he'd kept that thought to himself, telling Micah the place was alright, that it had a good atmosphere. And it did, he just felt a little uncomfortable, but that would change, wouldn't it? It would become his 'local' in time.

The old dear had been coaxed away from the mike with the promise of a port and lemon; thankfully, the next 'singer' up had a better voice and had chosen a better song, one he knew. The following applause couldn't persuade the woman to sing another song though, and the landlord was soon looking for someone else to share their talent. There were to be no takers and his attention eventually fell on their table...

"Come on Rev, there's no show without Punch!"

He had no idea what that meant, but with a little more encouragement from those around him, Micah was soon getting to his feet, and to his horror asking him to join him.

"No way!" He stated adamantly, he'd had one pint, he'd need another six at least before he would even consider making a fool of himself in front of all these people. He was, though, eager to see Micah in action.

He was half expecting Micah's song choice to be something like My Way, that song seemed the perfect choice somehow. But Micah took him by surprise again, belting out Sweet Child of Mine and 'playing' the air guitar through the instrumental bits! He found he couldn't take his eyes off him, and he wasn't the only one lapping it up, everyone else was, too. He had a feeling they'd seen it all before though, that the performance wasn't such a revelation to them.

Micah certainly knew how to let go, how to have a good time, he envied him that...

/

"Where now?"

Micah's voice had cut into his thoughts and he realised they were stopped at a junction. He looked around to get his bearings, "Left." They were only minutes away, and he was soon guiding Micah into the village, asking him to pull up, Micah bringing the car to a halt outside of Paddy's.

While he kept his eyes fixed on the dashboard, Micah was having a good look around, he could see most of the village from this vantage point.

"That cafe looks open, I'll wait there..."

"No. I want you to come in with me." He couldn't do this on his own, he couldn't face all the questions, the fuss they'd make, with Micah there they'd tone it down a bit.

"This is something you need to do on your own."

"Micah..."

" I'll give you an hour and then I'll come meet everyone, ok?"

"Half an hour!" He wasn't going to beg but he would bargain. Thirty minutes was more than enough time to explain himself and take any and all flack coming his way."

"Half an hour it is."

Throwing open the car door, he took a steadying breath; he just wanted this over with.

/

Micah watched Aaron make his way to the door, the uncertainty coming off him in waves, he knew though that as soon as he got the other side of that door, it would all melt away, that he would realise he'd done the right thing in coming today. The younger man had just turned to look at him, was obviously in need of some more encouragement. 'Go on', he mouthed, gesturing with his hand for him to go inside. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door shut behind him, knowing that was the hardest bit over and done with.

He had no qualms about leaving Aaron to it, and got out of the car and made his way down to the cafe, taking a closer look at the village as he did so. It looked like a nice place, it seemed quiet and well kept. A pub was at the centre of it, that had to be the one Aaron's mum co-owned, he reasoned, the village didn't look big enough to have two pubs. She was in for a surprise today, all her Christmases coming at once.

Aaron had wanted to see Paddy first, it seemed he felt better able to face him, and from what he knew of their relationship, he could understand why. He was looking forward to meeting him, meeting all of Aaron's family in fact, they sounded an interesting bunch.

The smell of coffee greeted him at the door, so too the smell of something even more tasty, food! He was suddenly hungry, well it wasn't far off lunch time. He'd have a pasty or something, it would fill a gap and help fill the half-hour he had to wait out.

"Well! Things are looking up!"

The loudly made comment had come from another customer and was, it seemed, aimed at him. The dark-haired woman was smiling in his direction, giving him the 'slow once over'. He smiled indulgently; that was as far as she was ever going to get with him!

/

He'd found the kitchen empty and was a little relieved at that, it gave him a minute to look around, to let where he was sink in. It didn't look any different, and it had the same welcoming feel to it, all these months later, it still felt like home, he knew it always would.

He could hear the TV in the next room, and slowly made his way over to the door, taking yet another steadying breath before opening it. He could see Paddy, he was sitting on the sofa, seemingly engrossed in some film, it seemed a shame to disturb him, and he wasn't sure how best to anyway. In the end, he went for something light-hearted, calling "Anyone home?"

Paddy had turned around on hearing him, his face a picture of pure surprise on seeing him standing there. All he could think of right then was that he was relieved Rhona wasn't there, as much as he liked her, she'd have been in the way, he couldn't say what he needed to if she was here.

"Aaron!"

Paddy had got to his feet now, but still seemed dazed, like he couldn't quite believe he was there, like it wasn't quite registering. It was registering with him though; the emotions were surging up inside, the tears already threatening to fall. He took the step down into the living room, edging closer, there was so much he wanted to say, but all that would come out of his mouth was "I'm sorry." He'd put Paddy through hell, and he knew just how much now.

The three words seemed to have snapped Paddy out of his trance because he was hurrying over to him... wrapping his arms around him, lovingly hugging him like he'd done so many times before.

/

Whoever she was, she was a shameless flirt. It was all good-natured though, a bit of harmless fun, although he had an idea that it wouldn't take much to encourage her, she was probably the village's resident man-eater, everyplace had one.

As he'd stood by the counter ordering his food, she'd continued to 'chat' to him, getting up close, flashing her big brown eyes at him as she made one after another suggestive remark. This was where his clerical collar would have come in handy, then again, maybe not where she was concerned. He couldn't help but like her though, she was upbeat and friendly, a little too friendly perhaps, but she was helping taking his mind of Aaron right now.

His food ready, he excused himself and moved to a table, her attention at last turning to someone else. She had the sort of voice that carried, and he could hear her above the sound of everything else. It was almost impossible to block her out, but he did for a while, until he'd eaten every crumb of the homemade pie. He'd heard a ringtone sound and her voice had soared to a new level, uttering a name he recognised, followed by another one he knew so very well. She sounded shocked, and looking in her direction, he could see she'd just been told something that was taking a little while to sink in, but when it did, when the news her son was home finally hit her, she was making for the door.

So that was Chastity Dingle! He was finding it a little hard to believe. Well, she and Aaron were nothing alike, not in looks or in personality, not from what he'd seen so far anyway. There was nothing of the brash flirt that reminded him in any way of Aaron, and he was quite pleased about that.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

Paddy had been the first to regain his composure and, as always, had taken charge of the situation, had sat him down, given him a few minutes to pull himself together, waiting patiently for him to talk, to explain.

He wished he'd put some thought into what he was going to say, that he had worked it out in his head, rehearsed it even. It would have been a lot easier, because now he was desperately searching for something, for reasons that would make sense to the older man.

"I had to leave, I couldn't stay, not the way I was, my head all over the place. I shouldn't have taken off like that though, I know that now. I just thought it was the best thing for everyone. I wasn't thinking straight... but my head's in a better place now, Paddy."

"So, what happened?" 'Something must have happened', Paddy reasoned, something had to have caused such a change.

"I met Micah."

"Micah?"

"He talked me into phoning you, into coming today. You're going to like him, Paddy, I know you will."

"I'm sure I will." Of course he'd like him! Whoever this Micah was, he'd persuaded his boy to come home, he would be eternally grateful to him for that, and for whatever else he'd done to help him. So, who was he and was this a platonic relationship or something more? As much as he'd like to believe Aaron had moved on from Jackson, he couldn't quite believe it. He was in need of some clarification on the matter, but was a little wary of pushing Aaron on what might prove a sensitive topic, "So when do I get to meet him?"

"In a bit."

"What, he's here? Where? You haven't left him outside, have you?"

"He's gone to the cafe; he wanted to give us time to talk."

"Aaron, you and him... well, are you ... you know... together?" He needed to know, he needed to have the right perspective on the situation at least.

"Yeah." He couldn't help but smile at that thought.

"It's been months, have you been with him all this time?" He'd prefer to think he had been rather than on his own God knows where.

"No. I don't really know where I've been for most of that time, moving from place to place, job to job. It didn't matter, nothing mattered, but then he... I tried running from him too, at first, but he wouldn't let me. He made me see what I was doing, that I couldn't run forever, that I had to face things... and somehow I can now that I'm with him. Right from the first minute I saw him, I knew, but I didn't want to believe I could care about someone else like I did for Jackson, not so soon, not ever. I didn't want to, I was scared, I'd made such a mess of things before. But I've never wanted anything as much as I want to be with him." The words had just spewed from his mouth, there had been no stopping them, but he'd wanted Paddy to know what it was he was feeling, it was important that he did, he didn't want him questioning what he had with Micah.

Paddy was nodding his understanding, a little taken aback by Aaron's candidness; he'd just opened his heart to him, and without needing any encouragement. This Micah seemed to have had a profound effect on Aaron. He tried to picture him in his head and the image forming was of someone a lot older than Aaron, someone mature, someone more than a little wise to the world. Not that an age difference would matter to him, all that did matter was that he cared about Aaron, and that in doing so had got him through a very dark time in his life, helped him find the light at end of the tunnel. Something no one here in Emmerdale had been able to do... He'd just realised something, a truth that tore at his heart, "So this is just a visit, you're not back to stay?"

"No. You understand why, don't you, Paddy?"

"Yes." He couldn't say he was happy about it though. From what Aaron had just told him, it certainly seemed the right thing for him, to be with this Micah, but… was it? Only time would tell. And he'd much prefer to have him someplace closer to home, where he could keep an eye on him, see him regularly. He knew that was a selfish need on his part but, he wasn't going to apologise for loving him, for wanting him in his life. He wasn't sure how Chas would react to the news either; she wouldn't want to let him out of her sight again anymore than he did. And while he remembered about Chas, "Aaron, your mum, I've got to let her know you're here."

Aaron wanted to say 'not yet', he wanted the peace that was Paddy, the understanding he provided and that his mother would almost certainly lack. She'd give him hell, that voice of hers leaving his ears ringing for hours after... he wanted desperately to see her though, "Ok"

Although Paddy had held his mobile close to his ear, he'd heard every word his mother had said. He hadn't needed Paddy to tell him she was on her way. Before she did come though, there was someone he wanted to ask about, "How's Hazel?"

"Coping." She was, just about, Aaron taking off had dealt her another blow, but she'd been doing a lot better since he'd told her the lad had phoned. She was someone else who would have difficulty letting Aaron go.

"She'll understand, won't she? About me and Micah?"

Paddy wanted to say yes, of course Hazel would understand, but he wasn't so sure she would. Chas crashing through the front door saved him from having to answer that burning question. The clatter of high heels warning them of her rapid approach. He got to his feet along with Aaron, ready to intervene if needed. Chas didn't always react the way she should, she was emotionally volatile and Aaron had inherited that trait from her. It should be a happy reunion but, one wrong word from her and...

"Where the hell have you been? How could you do that to us? As if you haven't put us through enough as it is!"

'And there it was', Paddy thought, cringing inwardly, 'the worst thing she could possible say right now', "Chas!"

That had stung, but then it was true, his mum had a right to be angry, he'd been expecting a bollocking from her, but maybe once she'd got it out of her system, she'd be ready to listen to him. She was suddenly very quiet, it seemed Paddy had managed to shut her up with just his tone of voice, not something easily done... were those tears trickling down her cheeks?

"Oh, love!"

Another hug, one that threatened to squeeze the life out of him, it felt good though, his mother's arms around him.

/

Micah checked his watch for the umpteenth time; he'd left Aaron well over thirty minutes ago and was feeling guilty about leaving him longer than promised. He didn't want to trespass on some much-needed private time, but he couldn't keep delaying it, Aaron just might need him. Downing the last of what was his second mug of tea, he made for the cafe door, eager to see how things had gone between Aaron and his family, and wondering how Chastity would react on realising she'd been flirting with her son's boyfriend. Hopefully she could laugh it off.

Rapping on the door Aaron had gone in through, he realised there was something else he should be worrying about, and that was what Paddy and Chastity would think of him. It was important that they like him, 'please God they do'.

He could tell by Aaron's face that things had gone well, the redness around his eyes telling him it had got emotional. The younger man had ushered him inside before he'd had a chance to ask him about it. Finding the room they were in, the kitchen, empty, he quietly pushed for some info, "Well?"

"You were right", Aaron said with a smile. "Come on, they're in there."

Aaron certainly seemed eager for him to meet his parents, and he took that as another good sign, and that they knew all about him and Aaron. He followed him into the next room, feeling more than a little nervous, it had been a while since he'd been in such a position.

He was met by a beaming smile, Paddy's! He liked the older man instantly, could see he was everything Aaron had led him to believe he was... but as for Chastity... well, there was no smile on her face, she had a stricken look about her, mortified was probably a good word to describe her right now.

Paddy had to admit, Micah wasn't anything like he'd been expecting him to be, he didn't look all that much older than Aaron, was probably in his mid to late twenties, he was a good-looking lad. Alright, his hair was a little too long for his liking, but what did that matter? Even if he hadn't known what this young man had done for Aaron, his first impression would still have been a good one, he had an open face, a ready smile, a calm and confident air about him. He'd been about to step forward, his hand outstretched ready to greet the other man, but Chas had just swore out loud, had uttered a very unladylike oath, taking them all by surprise. All eyes turned to her, he didn't quite know what to make of her reaction on seeing Micah, and Aaron was certainly far from pleased by it...

"Mam!"

"Well, he... I... I mean I didn't know, I wouldn't have... not if I'd known."

"What?" Aaron demanded, what was she trying to say? What had she done now?

Micah could see Aaron's mother was floundering, and wondered if maybe he should step in and explain things, "We met earlier, in the cafe, obviously we didn't know who each other was then and there was a bit of a misunderstanding..."

It took Aaron all of a second to guess what had really happened, he'd seen his mother in action before, when some bloke had caught her eye, when she thought he wasn't around, "That was no misunderstanding, Micah, that's how she is!"

/

It had been a bit of harmless fun, that's all. It certainly wasn't worth the upset it had caused. It had rocked the boat and badly! He'd thought Aaron would laugh it off but no, he supposed he should have known better, Aaron took everything so seriously. It seemed he'd been left humiliated by his mother's behaviour. Micah had to admit, if his mother had done something like that, he would have been too, but then his mother was in her fifties and a retired vicar's wife.

The atmosphere had, for a while, been unbearably frosty, Aaron either ignoring his mother's attempts at conversation or biting her head off. Paddy had come to the rescue, separating the pair by suggesting he make them all a drink, insisting Chastity help him. With the two of them safely in the kitchen, Micah had turned to Aaron, determined to make him see how ridiculous this all was. "You didn't come all this way, to see her for the first time in months, to then go and fall out about nothing..."

"It wasn't nothing."

"It was just a bit of fun..."

"Well, I'm not laughing."

"No, you wouldn't..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just think you need to lighten up." Gently prodding Aaron in his chest, Micah added, "I know you've got a sense of humour in there somewhere, it's time to let it out. Oh, come on, how can you not see the funny side? Your mum flirting with a gay vicar! It made me laugh, and if I can laugh about it, why can't you?" When that failed to have the desired effect, he decided to play the pity card, "You saw how embarrassed she was, she must have turned a hundred shades of red..."

"Like you could see under all that slap she wears!"

"Aaron, I like her..." He was starting to see what the real issue was here, "I do, I really like her, so don't think what happened made me think any less of her... or of you for that matter, because it didn't. Nothing would." That seemed to have hit the spot, he'd just seen the tension drain from Aaron's face, his features soften into a small smile.

"She doesn't know you're a vicar, not yet!" He'd been in the process of telling her all about Micah when he'd knocked on the door, he hadn't got around to telling Paddy either, so they were both in for a surprise or, maybe, that should be a shock, hopefully one that would stop his mother from cheapening herself in that way ever again.

It was a relief to Micah to see Aaron thaw where his mother was concerned, and none too soon either because she and Paddy were now making their way back into the living room, the older man carrying a tray laden with mugs of tea and a plateful of sandwiches. Just like the two of them, they'd obviously been talking, and seemingly making plans. Chastity was the one to hesitantly air them.

"We thought sarnies for lunch, steak and chips and a drink at the Wooly later... and that maybe you could stay over..."

"We have to get back. Micah's working tomorrow." He had no intention of staying and he'd made that clear to his mother earlier.

"On a Sunday? Can't you throw a sicky..."

"No, he can't!" Trust his mother to suggest something like that, she was showing herself up again.

Micah could understand Chastity's need to hold onto her son for as long as she could, and if Aaron wanted to stay on for a little while, then he would understand that too. But there was no way he could, he had responsibilities, he had to go home tonight, he hadn't even started writing his sermon yet, not that it would be the first time he'd had to make it up as he went along. "I'm sorry, I can't, as much as I'd like to. Sunday's probably my busiest day; St Mary's has a morning and an evening service..." Both Chas and Paddy were looking at him blankly, but he was used to getting such a reaction to his calling now, people could never quite take it in at first. "I'm the vicar there."

"Yeah, right," Chas snorted." Pull the other one, it's got bells on!"

"Chas!" Paddy warned, he wanted to shut his ex up before she had a chance to say something else she would regret. He knew Micah wasn't joking, that he really was a man of the cloth! He'd known there was something different about him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but strangely it all seemed to make perfect sense now.

/

His mother had tried to persuade him to stay, 'just for a few days' she kept saying, he knew Micah wouldn't have minded but he did, he didn't want all those miles separating them, and had made it plain they would be leaving together later that afternoon. It was getting to that time now and while his mum and Paddy were again busy in the kitchen, making yet another cup of tea, trying to delay the inevitable, Micah was steering him in the right direction once again.

"Isn't there anywhere else you want to go before we leave?"

"No." But there was one place he knew he should visit, and it was like it was calling to him, demanding some recognition.

"I think you should go, it will be your last chance for a while. I think you'll regret it if you don't. Go on, I'll wait here."

He'd slowly made his way to Jackson's grave, scared of how he'd feel on seeing it again, frightened there would be some overwhelming emotion, something he couldn't cope with. But on seeing it, on setting eyes on his name, he just felt a sadness, a sense of loss. The pain was not so intense now, not so destructive, it wasn't ripping into his heart anymore. He was glad he'd come...

"I don't believe it! Just when I thought you'd done us all a favour and disappeared for good, you turn up, like a bad penny, like the murdering scum you are."

Jerry! He didn't need this, not now!

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

Micah had guessed that with Aaron out of the way, his mum and Paddy would take the opportunity to talk to him about things they perhaps wouldn't feel able to in his presence. He'd guessed right.

It had all been fairly light-hearted at first, Paddy telling him, amongst other such anecdotes, about the 'wild' Alsatian Aaron had begged him to keep, and how that had been the turning point in their relationship. The conversation had, as he'd expected, quickly taken on a more serious tone, Paddy thanking him for what he'd done for Aaron, letting him know just how worried they'd been about him. The older man had then hesitantly sounded him out, concerned that he might not be fully aware of everything Aaron had gone through. He was able to reassure him that he was, in the past week Aaron had told him everything about himself.

Chastity had said very little, she seemed to have lost her tongue since finding out what he did for a living, he'd put it down to her not being sure how to act around him. It seemed he'd got that badly wrong! When Paddy's mobile had rung, he'd taken the private call in the kitchen, leaving him and the brunette alone. Chas had then taken him aback with a coldly made statement.

"You and my Aaron. You're so different, it's not going to work!"

"It does work!" It did, and so very well, but before he had a chance to say anything more in defence of their relationship, she had tossed something else at him that caught him equally unaware.

"Me and Paddy, we're like chalk and cheese too, it worked for us but only for a little while, then I got bored, the spark, the connection just wasn't there."

Chastity certainly didn't mince her words, "You think Aaron will get bored of me?

"Yes... and hopefully long before you find he doesn't live up to your expectations."

"My expectations?" What did she mean by that? What was she saying? That one day he'd wake up and realise Aaron wasn't good enough for him? That rankled, and instantly put him on the defensive. He cared about Aaron, more than cared; his feelings for him were growing deeper each and every day. He knew that would never change and he didn't like her questioning his commitment and especially not the apparent reasons behind it. But then she was Aaron's mother, maybe that gave her the right? He told himself he had to be fair-minded here. "You love your son and I know you're concerned about him but..."

"You've only just met. He's still grieving for the man he loved..."

"That doesn't mean we can't have feelings for each other, that we can't know instinctively that we're right for each other..."

"He's not ready for another relationship."

"Don't you mean you're not ready for him to have another relationship, not one that takes him away from you?" He wasn't quite sure where that had come from, but the brown eyes had flashed angrily at his response and he knew he'd hit the nail firmly on the head.

"I know my son, and he's not over Jackson yet. You're just some rock to cling to in a storm, and when that storm passes..."

"Chas!"

Neither one of them had noticed Paddy walk back into the room, Micah didn't know how much the older man had overheard but it was obviously enough to anger him. He was relieved to see him, he didn't like where the conversation was going either. He might be a vicar but he was a mere mortal too, he had feelings, he could be cut to the quick just like everyone else, and sometimes it wasn't so easy to turn the other cheek. He was capable of snapping out something hurtful when wounded too; if Paddy hadn't made his presence known, he probably would have done just that at that moment. While he pondered on what best to say to avoid any further unpleasantness, Chas seemed determined to make the most of his silence.

"Well, it's true, we both know it is, Paddy. It's Father Ted here who's blind to the fact."

"That's enough." Paddy warned, wanting to make it clear he thought Chas was well out of line.

"Aaron isn't anything like you." As soon as the words had left his mouth, Micah was regretting them, he hadn't meant that the way it had sounded... or had he? Whether he had or not, Chas had flinched on hearing it, it had been taken as a slight and all three present in the room knew that.

He couldn't believe how badly things had deteriorated or how quickly. He didn't think he was entirely responsible for the upset, knew he wasn't, but he had played a small part in it and felt he should play peacemaker. "The last thing Aaron needs or wants is for us to be at odds with each other, after all we all want the same thing, we all want what's best for him..."

"And you, after knowing him all of five minutes know what that is. He needs his family around him..."

"I agree he needs his family, but I believe he needs me more, and I'm sorry if that's a hard pill to swallow, but it's true."

Paddy couldn't get his head around Chas' continued verbal assault on Micah, had she forgotten all he'd done for the lad? It was time he came to his defence, "Aaron wouldn't have come home today if it wasn't for Micah, we have him to thank..."

"He's just another of his good causes."

"What?" Micah exclaimed, just what the hell did she mean by that?

"Aaron said you work with the homeless, the runaways. You took him in, he's just the latest soul that needs saving."

He had to bite back on his retort, it wouldn't have helped any, would only have served to further inflame the situation. It seemed Chastity had taken a dislike to him and he wasn't sure there was much point in trying to reason with her either, not with the mood she was in. It might just be best for him to leave, beat a retreat; getting to his feet, he turned to look at Paddy, "I think it's best I go." He knew the other man would protest and he was ready to reassure him, only events were about to take another unpleasant turn...

The door crashed open, instantly claiming all their attention. A woman, a stranger to him at least, delivering some garbled message about Aaron, something about him being in a fight!

It had taken a second to register, but as soon as it did, he was making for the door.

TBC


End file.
